


HAUNTING

by M1stakel0ve



Series: SBI Zombie AU [14]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Heartbreak, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Lonely Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Major Character Injury, Morally Ambiguous Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Older Sibling Sam | Awesamdude, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Platonic Soulmates Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Wilbur Soot, Sad Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude is Alexis | Quackity's Parent, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Technoblade Protects TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Deserves Better, Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Torture, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 59,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/M1stakel0ve/pseuds/M1stakel0ve
Summary: {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}Technoblade wakes up in a very familiar place.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Connor | ConnorEatsPants & Jschlatt, Floris | Fundy & Ranboo, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: SBI Zombie AU [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073210
Comments: 579
Kudos: 642





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Described gore, panic attacks and claustrophobia.
> 
> If you haven’t already, make sure you read the rest of the series! This might not make any sense if you don’t ^_^
> 
> I’ve mentioned already, but this part will be a lot darker than the parts I’ve previously done. Make sure you read the tags! This will hurt. Stay safe!

Over twenty four hours, a whole day, had passed since Philza and Techno had been reunited.

Since Wilbur had been beaten to a pulp.

Since Tubbo, Fundy and Ranboo had gone missing.

Since Tommy had been kidnapped.

As Technoblade began to wake up, he was so sure he had been sleeping for months thanks to how heavy he felt, how loud and bright everything seemed to be. 

“He’s awake,” a voice spoke up, soft and gentle “Hey mate... You with me?”

It took Techno a moment to adjust to the light after being in darkness for so long, deep in sleep.  
His whole body ached, especially his abdomen, where he had previously been shot.

The last thing he remembered, he was in a van, with Phil and Wilbur. Techno was pretty sure he passed out as soon as he got in, but he wasn’t so sure, the blood loss had certainly gotten to him.  
He leant into his father’s touch as he smoothed back his hair, letting out a huff of laughter.  
There was a soft vibration ontop of his chest, leading him to meet eyes with the pure black cat, whom blinked slowly at him.

“Suppose they like you,” Philza chuckled, delivering a gentle scratch to the top of the cats head “Warmed up pretty fast as you’ve been recovering. She hasn’t left your side... Thinking she misses Ranboo.”

Ranboo?...

Oh. The kid that Tubbo—

Tubbo—

“Where are they—“ Techno hissed in pain as he leant up, letting Philza scold him quietly, helping to lay him back down, brushing his hair out of his face, shaking his head.

“Come on, mate, you’re still in awful condition... Bad and Puffy are going to go looking as soon as the hoard has passed. Ranboo and Tubbo are smart kids, they’ll find somewhere to hide and wait... I know they will.”

Techno could hear the uncertainty in his fathers voice, and that just seemed to make everything so much worse.  
If even his father was worried, someone who, yes, worried often, but was very good at hiding it, then clearly it wasn’t a good situation. None of this was a good situation, to be fair.  
Tommy had been kidnapped.  
Fundy and Tubbo were missing, right as a hoard had been passing through.  
Wilbur was...

“Is—“ Techno hesitated, holding his breath “Wilbur. Is he... You know...” 

Philza’s face dropped slightly, nodding slowly as he gently took Techno’s hand into his, rubbing it gently with his thumb, “I’m not going to lie to you, Techno... He isn’t in good condition. We managed to stabilise him thanks to how fast we got here. Puffy and Hannah? I think that’s her name, they helped save him... He’s still not in the clear though, not just yet, Techno.”

“Niki is with him right now. The poor girl hasn’t left his side... She’s very nice, she actually baked some cookies for you.”

Techno had expected that answer, quite honestly. The last he saw of Wilbur, he was covered head to toe in blood and injuries, he had looked like a corpse already.   
The way he laid limp, his skin pale and cold, the way his mouth was slightly parted, his chest barely rising with every breath he took.  
He wondered how he looked right now...  
at least he wasn’t alone right now, even if he was unconcious. Techno didn’t want his younger brother to feel alone and scared.

Techno wanted to see him, his heart was hurting. Only being with Wilbur could help that. He just wanted his twin.

Philza seemed to notice his restlessness, moving closer and clearing his throat, giving his hand three gentle squeezes as he ran his fingers through Techno’s long pink hair.  
He was surprised it wasn’t matted and tangled, although he DID wake up to Philza, so he wouldn’t be surprised if the man had just spent some time brushing his locks.

The pinkette laid there for a while, just appreciating the peace and quiet, relieved that he could just lay there, in silence, letting his father, who by the way was definitely NOT meant to be alive and here right now, watch him, occasionally scritching at the cats ear.  
He was confused as to how Philza was alive, and God, did he have so many questions.  
Everything was so overwhelming and he hated it. He felt like he needed to be doing something, getting up and running to go find his brothers, to go save his nephew, to save his family and bring them all together again...

The day they get Philza back, the same day they’re all split up.

Life just isn’t fair.

“... You’re meant to be dead.”

Philza looked a bit shocked at the abruptness of the statement, but relaxed rather quickly, letting out a blank laugh, one that was more like a huff than a laugh.   
“Yeah, I suppose I should be,” he laughed “I’m still not entirely sure how exactly I wasn’t ripped apart, thought I was for sure a goner.”

Techno frowned, “How... How did you survive? Why didn’t—“ he quickly caught himself before his voice broke, “Why... Why didn’t you come home sooner?”

“I... I was in pretty bad shape, mate, I didn’t even know where exactly I was. As soon as I woke up, after this mess—“ he motioned to his hand, “I wanted to get up and go find the lot of you immediately. In fact, I tried. But uh, Miss Puffy was a bit strict. I had to stay for a while, which I suppose was a good call—“

“A good call?” Techno scoffed, staring up to the ceiling “You... You missed so much. You don’t know how hard it was for all of us. For Wilbur.”

Philza flinched, sighing, “I... I didn’t want to leave you all—“

“You accepted your fate!” Techno snapped “You accepted it— just like that! You— You didn’t even die, so— So you tried to give your life away for nothing! You were being just a complete fool!”

He had never yelled at Philza, not like this, although could you really call it yelling? His voice was strained, yes, but it was painful and raw, his deep voice scratching his throat.  
Slowly, he touched his own neck, furrowing his brows together, “You just— just up and left me, Phil... You just left me...”

Techno was not used to being vulnerable, in fact, it was a rare scenario, for Techno to even admit he was upset with someone unless it was straight up anger.  
He knew Philza was shocked too, because instead of speaking and apologising like he usually would, he sat there in silence, gently rubbing his thumb across his son’s knuckles, staring at his hand sadly.  
He wanted Philza to yell at him, to scold him for— God knows what.  
Philza was so good, here he was yelling at him. The man who took him in, raised him as his own, protected him with his life and nearly almost gave it up for them.

Technoblade was so sure he had given it up for them.

Another minute passed of the long and now uncomfortable silence, it was irritating now. Technoblade just wanted to get up, he was bored out of his mind.  
His thoughts stuttered as Philza stood up, leaning over and wrapping Technoblade into a tight gentle hug, careful with him as to not cause any more harm to his already painful injuries.  
Tangling his fingers in Techno’s hair, he pressed a soft kiss to his temple, closing his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, Technoblade. I’m so sorry I left, you’ve done so well. My son... My beautiful boy. You did so well looking after them, looking after Wilbur, yourself... Mate, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

There it was.

The gentleness, the kindness that he most definitely did not deserve.

They said nothing as the tears began to stream past Techno’s cheeks, wordlessly clinging to Philza’s shirt, silently begging him not to let go.  
His father got the hint, now sitting on the bed, holding him close, shushing him lovingly as he let Techno cry, not a single noise escaping from him as he did so.  
He never was loud.

“I never wanted to leave you, Techno. I never wanted to leave any of you... It was soul crushing to hear your brother scream for me, it was... It was devastating. I thought it was all over, had I thought I’d make it out, I wouldn’t of said goodbye—“

“Please never say goodbye again,” Technoblade whispered into his shirt.  
He felt his father stiffen, but nod, holding him even closer.

“Never again.”

Tubbo was exhausted as he clung to Ranboo’s hand tightly, shivering and trying oh so desperately to keep calm and keep his tight hold on Fundy.  
They had been walking for over a day now, without sleep.   
They spent a few minutes every hour or so rushing into the closest building, re applying the zombies insides and blood over themselves, Fundy hadn’t said a word, or even opened his eyes.  
None of them had uttered a word to each other, deathly afraid that if they even breathed loud enough, they’d be a goner.

Tubbo had been through an awful lot.

But this definitely took the top in the scariest, most terrifying and traumatising thing that had ever happened to him.

He kept his eyes glued to the floor, his hand tightly grasped in Ranboo’s, his other arm holding onto Fundy for dear life.  
The little boy was hidden under a very bloodied blanket now, Tubbo desperately trying to protect Fundy from seeing all the dead, bloodied and decaying people walking beside them, rubbing against them.  
Tubbo just wanted to keep Fundy safe.

But he also wanted to get out of this alive.

It was hard, but Fundy at least had managed to get a little bit of rest every now and then, it only upset him that he wasn’t just sleeping normally, he was straight up passing out from how hard was crying.  
He felt guilty that he was relieved that Fundy was a silent crier when things got serious. This was so not fair on the poor kid.

He didn’t complain when he realised they weren’t heading in the direction that Wilbur and the others had gone in, because it didn’t really matter.   
There was nothing they could do, not when they were surrounded by zombies, trying not to get killed.  
Tubbo wasn’t going to just start arguing with Ranboo about which way to go, and let go of his hand.  
Definitely not because he knew that the other boy was just as scared as him.  
He could tell, both their hands were shaky and sticky with sweat, their grip tight, leaving Tubbo unable to let go even if he tried to.

They were leading each other blindly now, and that just made Tubbo feel sick.

It was hard not to meet the dead ones eyes, so hard that Tubbo saw them everytime he blinked.  
The bloodshot whites of their eyes, the milky colour, the way their jaws were practically hanging off, some behaving feral and manic, some didn’t even have jaws, or eyes.  
The creepiest were the ones that looked about his age.  
A kid groaned and slumped past him, watching in horror as the zombie seemed to fade into the others, Tubbo could feel the trickles of his tears, but he couldn’t stop them.

Sometimes it was so hard to remember that children also lost their lives in this fucked up world.   
That nobody was safe.

He tried to keep his gaze to the floor ever since he saw that boy, but even then, nothing could prepare him for the haunting looks of death everytime he closed his eyes.  
Sleep wasn’t ever going to come easy after this.

And he thought the basement was bad.  
Compared to this, that was nothing more than a dream.

This was an actual, living breathing nightmare, and Tubbo knew there was no way of waking up.

It was starting to feel like they’d never get out.  
Until they did.

The walkers became not as crowded, Tubbo finally feeling as if he could breathe as he saw the crowd beginning to groan and drag themselves after the ones ahead, soon enough leaving Tubbo, Ranboo and Fundy with the few stragglers left behind.

Ranboo spoke up, finally, for the first time, “We— Uh— we should go hide somewhere,” he whispered.

Tubbo almost jumped, his heart rate increasing, before his brain seemed to kick in the fact they weren’t surrounded by the dead creatures anymore.  
Nodding, he slowly uncovered the silent little boy in his arms, his heart breaking at the sight of the shuddering boy, his tiny hands clamped over his ears, his eyes shut tight as he attempted to shove his face even further into Tubbo’s chest.

Clearing his throat, trying to make his voice as gentle and soft as he possibly could, just like Wilbur did whenever Fundy was upset back before they all had gotten separated, “Fundy... Fundy you can open your eyes now.”

The tiny hands moved from his ears to Tubbo’s shirt, a soft gasp escaping from him, which Tubbo recognised as his silent crying.

“I know it’s scary... But— But we’re away from the monsters now, I promise.”

Ranboo looked heartbroken as he stared at Fundy, his eyes welling up with tears as he nervously fidgeted with his sleeves, not saying a word as he took Tubbo’s free hand again, leading him towards one of the closest houses, stopping just outside.  
“There are walkers inside...” he stated.

Tubbo shifted uncomfortably, looking to Fundy, “I... I got them. Can you hold Fundy?”

Ranboo hesitated, holding his hands close to him, as if terrified of grabbing him and breaking him, but gulping, he nodded.  
“Okay.”

“Thank you, Ranboo,” Tubbo smiled slightly, an exhausted one at that, but still a smile nonetheless.

As soon as he shifted Fundy in his arms, the boy started to cry a bit louder now, opening his big brown eyes, ready to throw a tantrum and beg for Tubbo to hold him, until he spotted the tall boy beside them, his eyes locking onto his height, his nervous fidgeting.  
Something seemed to click in the boys head, his eyes widening, sniffling, but he seemed a lot calmer for someone who had been on the verge of a possible breakdown.

“... Boo?” Fundy whispered, holding his arms out.

Ranboo glanced to Tubbo.

Tubbo was extremely confused, to his knowledge, Fundy was never in the same place they had been. Maybe it had been scrubbed from his memory?  
But he wasn’t sure, Fundy seemed just as comfortable with Ranboo as he was with Tubbo, letting the tall lanky boy take the boy into his arms.  
Gently, Fundy’s fingers traced the scar across the lower half of his face, the smile that had very obviously carved into his flesh.

“... Boo...” Fundy’s voice was full of sadness now, hugging him “Mama? Mama? You seen mama?”

Ranboo shook his head, hugging Fundy tightly, “I-I uh— I can’t— No. no I haven’t, my goodness—“

Tubbo flinched.

So Fundy still couldn’t register the fact that his mother was deceased. He wasn’t surprised, considering he was only young, but he still would of thought the kid would give up the hope.  
Tubbo still sometimes wished his mum was alive to the point that he occasionally would believe it, so he sort of could understand.

“We can talk inside,” Tubbo spoke up, taking the knife from Ranboo’s belt, looking at it carefully, then back to the much taller boy, thinking how much he had grown, “I’ll— I’ll clear it out.”

“You’re hurt—“

“I’m also tired... We both are,” he pointed out, letting out a shaky breath “Just— Just... I just want to clear it out so we can sleep for a bit. Is that okay?”

He didn’t wait for a response, turning on his heels, making his way up the small steps and opening up the creaky door, leaving Ranboo to hold and comfort Fundy, for the boy to be at least a little bit distracted from his thoughts.  
As long as Fundy was okay, Tubbo could relax a little bit more, he wasn’t as stressed as he previously was, even if his head was throbbing, his body hot and sweaty, extremely uncomfortable in his clothing as he snuck around the house, clearing all the rooms.  
It didn’t take long for him to fully clear the bottom floor, making his way up the stairs.

Spotting the zombie before it could spot him, he let out a shaky sigh, chewing on the skin of his lip as he stalked over, behaving like a predator hunting its prey, thinking back to the times that he and Tommy would stay up all night reading those stupid animal world books.  
Thinking about the snakes, the lions... 

‘I reckon I could beat them in a fight’ Tommy would joke, and Tubbo would laugh so hard that Philza would of scolded the both of them and took the book away.  
Such simpler times.

Tubbo let out a cry, his thoughts had distracted him so much that the zombie had come straight for him, it’s teeth ALMOST digging into his arm, quickly raising his knife, slamming it into the side of the zombie’s head, gagging as the blood splattered on his face, blinking a few times in disgust.  
He managed to slump the decaying dead creature off of him, laying on his back for a moment.

Why did he have to do this?

Was there even a point in continuing?

If Tommy was gone, the one person he was sure he was nothing without, then was there really a point?

His eyelids felt heavy, his mind becoming fuzzy. Everything felt warm, warm enough for him to become sleepy and droopy, letting himself close his eyes.  
He was so so tired.

Tubbo woke up screaming, jolting upright and his hands rushing to his chest, his throat raw from how hard he belted out a cry, his chest heaving from the panic.  
Someone was instantly by his side, gentle large hands on his shoulders, rubbing his upper arms softly, shushing him and telling him that he was okay, that it was all okay.  
Those fuckers were haunting him. He was right when he said he wasn’t going to sleep normally after that, there was no possible way he was going to return to normal after that.

The brunette’s breath hitched as he looked up to meet Ranboo’s mismatched worried eyes, his mouth in a thin line as he stared at him, the silent question of ‘are you okay?’ Lingering in the air, unspoken due to the obvious answer.  
Tubbo let out a choked sob, hanging his head in shame, shaking.

“My family— my family are gone,” he hiccuped “It’s all gone, Ranboo. It’s all fucking gone...”

The scarred boy frowned slightly, gently grabbing Tubbo’s face, “They’re not gone, Tubbo. They— They’re... They’ve gone somewhere, probably to help Wilbur. Uh— he wasn’t in good shape when we got there. Thought he was dead until he started yelling for you guys and Fundy...”

The pair of them glanced over to the sleeping boy, whom Tubbo was very surprised the kid was still deep in sleep even after he had screamed his heart out.  
Tubbo hiccuped, letting Ranboo gently use a handkerchief to wipe away his tears.

“I’m sure they’re all okay. Tommy I— uh—“ he glanced to a book by his satchel, shaking his head, then looking back to Tubbo, “I think I remember Philza told me he was really stro—“

“Philza?” Tubbo immediately asked, his eyes widening even larger, almost bulging out of his head, “Wh- what do you mean, Philza?”

“Your... Your dad. He’s uh— oh goodness— urm... He’s alive, Tubbo.”

There was no way he was still alive.

This was some sick joke, this was so sick— so fucked up. This must be a prank, some bullshit.   
Phil— his dad— he died. He heard him, he had no way out. He was dead. There was no possible way there— he can’t be—  
It made no sense!

His friend seemed to understand his confusion, leaning over to snatch up the old looking leather book, nervously handing it over to Tubbo.  
“Um— please be gentle with it. It’s my memory book, I have a bad memory after everything... With that place... You know.”

Tubbo could understand, some of his memories were fuzzy too.  
Delicately, he ran his fingers along the edges, relaxing just at the familiar smell of leather, the sight of a pretty purple ribbon that he just new was an addition from Phil. Philza loved making things look pretty and neat.  
Flicking through the first few pages, he grimaced at the doodles, the scratches that were meant to be words, but hardly visible, hardly readable.  
He saw Sally and Fundy’s names written down a good amount, which now Tubbo began to realise Ranboo did not know that Sally, whoever she was to him, was dead. 

That wouldn’t be easy to break to him.

He got more than halfway through the book when he noticed it.

A small doodle, of a man with a bucket hat, a disc, a pig, a bee and a guitar.

He laughed, tears falling past his cheeks as he held the book with shaking hands, “He’s— he’s really alive? After— after all this time?”

Ranboo nodded.

Tubbo still couldn’t quite believe it, letting out a shocked gasp, slowly putting the book down and pulling his knees up to his chest, sniffling, “He’s alive... He’s alive... Tommy won’t...” his heart broke “Tommy won’t get to see him... I won’t...”

“Don’t say that,” his friend frowned, taking his hand into his, “We’ll uh— we’ll get you back together. I know Phil won’t leave you out here, I’m not sure about me but I know he won’t leave you! For now we can... We can stay here? Or we can try slowly follow after the hoard and separate when we get to that place Phil was talking about. L’manberg?”

Tubbo nodded, sitting up straight, wiping his eyes, “Mhm— yeah— yeah you’re right...” slowly, his brown eyes trailed down towards the scar across his mouth.  
He hadn’t said anything about it, and he tried not to look at it when Ranboo had removed his mask.  
But he couldn’t help but look at it.  
It looked less than a year old, still a pale pinky-red tint to it, sore looking too.  
God, it must itch like a bitch being so close to his mouth.

Ranboo seemed to have caught his eyes on Tubbo’s scar too, the bite mark from that zombie.  
Honestly, he almost forgot he had a scar there, that a chunk of his cheek was missing. It was so easy to forget when he had been so happy in L’manberg... It was stinging now.  
The gloves hands raised to his cheek, gently cupping it, Tubbo allowed himself to lean into the touch, closing his eyes.

“I thought you were dead, big man,” Tubbo whispered.

“I didn’t even know what to think about you... I-I thought I’d forget you too,” Ranboo said sadly.

They sat there, just enjoying each other’s company.  
Neither of them tried to sleep that night, knowing there was no way in hell they could. The fear eating away at them.

The nightmares terrorising them even as they sat awake.

When Tommy woke up in darkness, he had immediately tried to yell, to cry out for someone to help him.  
His throat hurt so bad, everything that came out from him was croaky and barely audible. He must of been screaming so hard he lost his voice.

He didn’t like the darkness, he didn’t like feeling trapped. His claustrophobia was kicking in and kicking in hard now, trying to raise his hands up to his head, to play with his hair, to calm himself down, but he found he could barely lift them.  
His eyes trailed down, trying to see in the darkness.

He could hear the chains though, and his heart plummeted into his stomach, realising that not only could he not speak, not move his hands, but he had also had his hands handcuffed and attaches to a chain, that was stuck in the floor.

Tommy began to tug, gasping for breath as the panic attack began to settle in, thrashing about and sobbing, trying to let himself cry it out, trying to pull his wrists out of the cuffs, only resulting in rubbing and twisting his hands so hard they clicked, sore and red.  
He knew that he’d start bleeding if he continued, that the cuffs would just tighten, but he couldn’t stop.

This was terrifying.

He just wanted Wilby. He wanted Tech, he wanted Tubbo he wanted Henry he wanted Fundy he wanted dad—

“Dad—“ his voice croaked out, heaving “Dad— please—“ he wailed “I— I— Dad—“ 

Eventually he was shaking so hard that the jingles of the chains was just completely overstimulating him. Curling up on the ground, close enough to the chain that he could cover his ears, his back sore due to the position he curled into, but he couldn’t care less, he was more focused on how loud—   
No, how silent everything was.  
Everything was so quiet that it was loud.

Dream listened, sat by the top of the stairs of the basement as Tommy let out hoarse screams, a satisfied smile resting on his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Tommy can’t breathe, and Dream just keeps making it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACKS, MANIPULATION, TALKS OF ANIMAL DEATH AND DEATH IN GENERAL  
> (Please let me know if I need to add any other triggers)
> 
> This chapter is a very sad one... :(

God knows how long Tommy had been sobbing on the cold stone floor, trapped in complete and utter darkness, alone with his thoughts.

Although that didn’t matter.  
Not when he knew there was no way out.

All he knew was that he had been kidnapped and was now stuck in some shitty smelly gross and small basement.  
A recurring dripping noise that was driving him insane was painfully loud, which was just a hint to how bad the situation was. He didn’t realise how overwhelmed he could get just by being in a dark room— well, a dark small room to be specific.

Tommy hadn’t really stopped crying, although now there were no tears, instead just heavy breathing and sniffles, hiccuping every few seconds as he held his hands over his ears, desperate to be back with his family and Henry.  
His poor puppy... He had been so good, trying to protect him and keep him safe. Tommy loved that dog so much...

Oh god, was Henry dead?  
He had heard the gunshot, he heard the yelp, was his boy dead? Was his only source of happiness gone?   
Was Wilbur—

The blood, there was so much blood...

Surely there was no way that Wilbur could of survived that much blood loss, that much torture he was put through.

That’s what it was, it was literal torture. He had to listen and watch his brother get beaten, stabbed and hurt, and for what?  
He didn’t have a reason!   
The bastard Dream didn’t have a god damn reason, they didn’t even know who he was.  
He was just a stranger.  
So why? Why did he... 

Tommy cried out again, sobbing even harder, whimpering and chewing at his bottom lip.  
He felt like a baby as he wailed, wanting nothing more than someone to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay, that he was allowed to cry, to be upset.

Everything was so scary, and he was meant to be a big man! He wasn’t meant to be shaking so hard he thought he was going to vomit, he wanted to be brave, he really did.  
But Wilbur was possibly dead.  
Dream killed his brother, his best friend, his whole wide world.

Was it his fault?

The blond jolted, jumping out of his skin as a latch was flicked, his breath escaping him as he looked up to where a new dim light source had been produced.  
He backed up as much as he could against the wall, trying not to wince at the harsh tug against his wrists from the chain, watching as the masked individual, Dream, dragged someone down the steps.  
It looked painful, but the man didn’t utter a word, or even flinch at that. 

Though it was dark, so maybe he did.

Dream practically chucked the man into the corner, sighing and shaking his head, tutting as he unclasped his mask, holding it delicately in his hands, “Oh kid, I’m so sorry for manhandling you here,” he started, stalking towards him, not uttering another word until he had crouched down infront of the boy, a soft smile on his lips as he reached over, brushing his blonde curls out of Tommy’s eyes.

“You look so tired, Tommy... That’s a shame. Do you want a blanket? I can get you a blanket.”

His voice was soft, gentle, something that Tommy was certainly not expecting.  
He couldn’t help but lean into the touch, but his brain reminded him what he was capable of, what he did to Wilbur, his family, and he instantly yanked himself back, staring at him like a deer stuck in headlights, his quick breathing beginning to pick up speed again as the man rolled his eyes, cupping his cheek in his hand.

“They weren’t good people, the ones you were with... I mean honestly, you shouldn’t trust anyone nowadays. But those people especially. You see, Tommy, I’ve been watching your group a while now. Enough to see that you’re like me,” he began, his eyes glistening with excitement with every word he said.

“You don’t see the zombies as enemies, do you? No... Of course you don’t. You see them as lost souls, people who need help. Just like us!” His fingers lightly wiped away Tommy’s tears, a concerned expression playing on his face, one that made Tommy feel even more conflicted and scared.

Tommy wanted to speak, but he couldn’t find his words, instead, electing to stare, bewildered.

“Of course, we aren’t exactly the same. We aren’t dead, that’s one. You’re drawn to them though, are you not? You can feel them calling for you, telling you to join them, to help them... Save them, become their hero,” Dream went on, gently rubbing the boy’s cheek with his thumb.  
“You and I? We are the beginning. Us people, the ones drawn to them, we started this all.”

“What?” Tommy croaked out, trying to scoot back, away from the strangers touch.

The man’s face immediately dropped, a bored expression crossing over as he sighed, hanging his head in disappointment, “How long is it going to take to get into your thick skull? We are the apocalypse. We aren’t immune, we’re the START.”

Tommy didn’t understand what was happening.  
He didn’t understand what he was saying.

He didn’t ask, he didn’t care? He wanted to leave, to get out of here, he couldn’t give two shits about what this manic and insane man was saying. In fact, he was probably high.  
That would explain why he attacked his family for no reason whatsoever, he was high. It all made sense now.

“You hurt— hurt... Wilbur!” He managed to get out, his throat feeling tight as he whispered.

Dream smiled.

“No Tommy, I didn’t hurt Wilbur,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around Tommy, stroking his hair before leaning into his ear.

“I Killed Wilbur.”

Tommy felt the panic beginning to spark inside of him as the words echoed throughout his mind, replaying over and over again like a broken radio.  
His breathing became shallow and fast rather quickly, trying to pull away from the taller man, shaking his head rapidly, opening his mouth to scream, to yell, to say something— ANYTHING!  
It made everything so much worse that he couldn’t swear or scream, like something was bottled up inside of him, waiting to explode, but nothing came out, he felt like he was going to black out as his breaths became gasps, looking to Dream for some sort of clue to whether or not he was lying or telling the truth. 

The man showed nothing, just a sickening soft smile on his stupid face. 

“I would say I’d show you myself, but the hoard seems to have done a pretty good job at getting rid of the evidence for me. As for all your other little criminals,” Dream whistled, “That boy? Tubbo. He played right into our cards, we knew exactly where he would go... At least he was useful for something. He distracted the dead ones from my men, those zombies gosh, they were so busy...”  
Dream tugged on the chains, watching as Tommy hit the floor with a thud, unable to pull him back up due to his breathing difficulties

“Tearing him apart.” He spoke in a sing song voice.

Tubbo wasn’t dead.

Wilbur wasn’t dead.

Techno— no No none of them were dead.

It couldn’t just be him left, it couldn’t be.

They had always been so much stronger than him, they were better than him, there was no fucking way they were dead.  
He’d much rather it was him than them.  
Anyone but them.  
If he had to make a choice between himself or them, he’d always choose them, no matter what the consequences were.

Why couldn’t it have been him?

“Kill— kill me— kill me— kill—“ Tommy stuttered, wheezing as he attempted to reach up and pull at Dream, but the man stood up, looking down at him with a face of disgust, “Please!”  
He sounded so desperate, whiny, which if he wasn’t so erratic and panicked he would be embarrassed by his own behaviour.  
But he was desperate.  
The world was nothing to him without Tubbo, without his family.

“I’ll let you calm down, then maybe we can talk more later, Hm, puppet?” He chuckled, a wheeze escaping him as he lit a lantern, placing it in the corner, giving the basement a dim lighting as he began to return up the stairs.

Tommy waited until the latch slammed shut, until Dream, the sick bastard, was gone. Before just absolutely crashing, letting out a hoarse scream as he twitched and writhed, the emotional agony almost physical at this point as he wailed.

He was all alone. 

He was all alone in this world.

The blond choked on his own spit as he cried, not even realising someone was in-front of him, shushing him lovingly and wiping away his tears, not seeming to care about how badly he looked and was behaving.  
The voice was gentle, soothing, two soft hands coming up to cup his face, meeting two kind eyes.

“Tommy? Can you breathe with me? Tommy, just— just follow my lead, alright?” Sam, he now recognised, was holding him, leading him through a breathing exercise.

He didn’t want to, he wanted to give up. Maybe he could hyperventilate himself to death, or maybe he could piss Dream off enough to kill him.   
But the worried expression on Sam was tugging at his heart strings. It reminded him of Wilbur.  
So of course he listened, sucking in a deep breath, copying Sam as they breathed in sync.  
It took him a good amount of time to calm down enough that he wasn’t gasping every few seconds, probably over a good hour.  
The green haired man hadn’t left his side since, whispering gentle praises, brushing his hair and holding him carefully, as if he was so delicate, like china, afraid he would break.

“There we go... Well done, Tommy, you’re doing so well...” he murmured, brushing his greasy hair out of his face, “Do you want me to move the light closer?”

“Wilby’s— Wilby’s dead— my— my family—“ his voice broke, almost falling back into his breakdown, the only thing stopping him was Sam’s grounding touch.

“I’m so sorry, Tommy. I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do... I’ll get us— you out of here, I promise you. I won’t let Dream hurt you...” the older man was comforting to listen to, allowing him to wrap him up in his big strong arms.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Tommy, I promise. We’ll get you back to L’manberg.”

He gave him the same vibes as both Wilbur and Techno. He had Wilbur’s soft and calming voice, while he had Techno’s strength and awkward movements.  
He was the perfect mix, and god did his heart long to be in his brothers arms right now, missing their teasing.  
Missing their stupid annoying laughs and their snarky comments and their hair and their smiles and...

Tommy just missed his family so bad.  
It hurt, his heart physically hurt. Could you die from heartbreak?

The fact that he found so much comfort in a complete stranger, that he was now being lulled to sleep, was scary.   
But the man continued to reassure him, humming a familiar song to him as his vision began to get blurrier and blurrier, the song reminding him of a game he once played as a kid.

Tom Nook was a cool character.

Philza sat beside Wilbur’s bed, a sad expression on his face as he lovingly stroked back his hair, relieved that all the blood had been cleaned off his son.  
Leaving his skin looking as white as the snow.  
If Philza didn’t know any better, looking at him he’d think he was dead right off the bat. Truthfully, when he did first see him, he did think he was dead.  
He can remember the way his heart shattered as his eyes landed on the limp figure of his son.

Ranboo had immediately began stressing out, panicking about how he would deal with Philza grieving, and also blabbering on about Tubbo.  
Honestly, he quite missed Ranboo.

He missed all his kids.

Ranboo had very quickly been unofficially adopted by him, which was unsurprising. Phil had a thing for taking in kids with issues, and he was sure it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.  
The young boy was kind and funny, strong and smart too. He never gave himself enough credit for his ideas or plans, he had hoped that one day, his kids would all meet again and maybe, just maybe, Ranboo would gain confidence by just being around them.  
But unfortunately life had other plans.  
They were all split up.

Phil wasn’t even sure if his other children were alive.

All he could do was hope and pray.

What Philza wasn’t expecting when he returned to his family, or at least some of them, was the fact that Wilbur had a son, which meant he was a grandpa.  
Technoblade had explained it to him, and it had thrown him off completely, that his boy, his son, had his own son. One that was apparently just as loving and funny as Wilbur himself.  
What confused him the most was the fact that Fundy was the child Ranboo remembered, the one that he wanted to find, along with a woman named Sally.

Sally was Wilbur’s lover and they had a child named Fundy.  
Ranboo was searching for a woman named Sally and Fundy, this could not have been a coincidence. It was odd how connected everything seemed to be, though he wasn’t sure if he should complain, considering it wasn’t that bad of a situation.  
Aside from the fact, you know, Sally apparently killed herself, Fundy was missing and Wilbur was on the brink of death.   
Nothing could ever be normal for them, could it?

Ranboo would be devastated to hear about Sally. The poor kid didn’t even remember her face, how was he going to cope? Maybe Wilbur kept a photo of her somewhere, although Phil had never seen one on him throughout the years of being with him.   
He wondered if Ranboo had ever suffered loss.

Philza left out a sad sigh, leaning closer to his son, resting his chin on his hand as he lovingly played with his son’s soft brown curls, twirling it around his fingers, watching his chest, just to make sure he was still breathing.  
It was so painfully silent, a quiet ringing in his ears due to the emptiness of the room. Wilbur was never a quiet person, the only time he had ever been quiet, silent even, was when he was asleep.  
A peaceful, nice sleep.  
But this was different.

Now it was just uncomfortable.

“Oh Wilbur,” he spoke softly, “I hope you know how proud of you I am...”

He planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, lovingly holding him for a moment, before sinking back into his chair, holding his hand as he watched him rest.  
Seeing how bandaged up he was, was truthfully breaking his heart.   
How the fuck could someone just carve their name into his boys body? His loving, wonderful, kind boy?

Philza laid his hand on his chest, his breath hitching as he hung his head in shame. He had failed protecting his boys.

“I’m sorry I left you, Wilbur,” he spoke in a hushed voice, making sure not to wake him up, even if he wasn’t sure if he would wake up any time soon, “I should of been here to protect you all, to keep you safe. To hold you when things got bad, to be a grandfather for Fundy... I should have been your rock, mate, and I wasn’t.”

“You got to wake up for me though, alright? When you’re ready, you’ve gotta wake up. Your brothers need you and so does Fundy. Fundy, he’ll be safe, I promise you, darling boy. I’ll find him and keep him safe, but that doesn’t mean you’re allowed to not wake up... You’ve gotta get your rest and then we have to get up, mhm?” 

There was no point in talking, it wasn’t as if he could hear him, but he continued on, trying to ignore the burning wetness in his eyes.

“And Wil... Wil I need you too. I’ve been fighting for months to get back to you, to come and wrap my arms around you and give you a bone crushing hug,” he forced out a laugh, wiping his eyes, “You and your brothers were the only thing that kept me going, you know? I knew you’d all be alive, there was no way you wouldn’t be... You’re my son, my beautiful, brave son and I have never been prouder...”

Philza moved Wilbur’s hand to his face, kissing his cold skin gently, “So you have to wake up, son. I need you.”

He allowed himself to cry for the first time in a long while, letting the tears trickle past his reddening face. Crying almost always made him feel overwhelmed and tired, but he didn’t care.  
Phil needed to cry, and so he did, resting his head against the bed, softly crying into the sheets, not letting go of his hand, deep down worried if he let go he would just disappear.  
It took him a moment to realise there was a light rap of knuckles against the door, quickly sitting up and rubbing at his face, sniffling as the door opened up, revealing the short kind woman, Puffy.

Her hair was all loose, curls falling over her shoulders, eyes wide with concern as they landed on Phil, immediately her stance softened, glancing to Wilbur.

“Oh Phil...” she spoke sadly, making her way over, wrapping her arms around him, which he gratefully returned.  
Puffy always had such a mothering nurtured personality, humming as she hugged Philza tightly, something that was loving and reassuring.

She sighed, “I’m so sorry about Wilbur... About all of your children, I am so incredibly sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said, pulling away from the hug, resting his palm on her shoulder, giving her a sad smile, “Life is just a bitch.”

“That’s where you’re wrong...” she shifted uncomfortably, taking a deep breath, “The person— The messed up person who did this to your boys? I...”

Carefully, she removed Phil’s hand from her shoulder, and Philza’s worry grew more as she began fidgeting with her fingers.

“Dream is my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone suggested making a discord! Would anyone be interested if I did make one? It wouldn’t be for a bit I don’t think... But I am interested! I do not use social media much aha


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Puffy explains why Dream, her little duckling, is the way that he is. 
> 
> (Check notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF MANIPULATION AND DEATH.
> 
> Hi guys! I’ve decided to make a discord server! Feel free to join, or not, it is totally open! I want to make it very clear that I won’t be super active in there, but I will be answering questions and such! ^_^ I am just not a very social person.
> 
> Please, go make friends and talk! 
> 
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

After Puffy had told him about Dream, Philza had to sit in a moment of silence, trying to figure out what exactly to say in response.  
His whole heart dropped when Puffy had began to cry into her palms, apologising over and over for her sons actions— which weren’t even hers.  
Blaming herself over and over again, trying to explain in a muffled voice what happened, why it was her fault.

There was nothing he could to do calm her down, because he had not a clue as to why she would blame herself?  
Was she a bad parent?  
Did she convince him to become evil and twisted?  
He really didn’t think Puffy was capable of that.

Niki had come rushing in, and both her and Philza managed to calm her down enough to bring her into a separate room, where they could properly speak and not have to worry about stressing out Wilbur, and just so Puffy was more comfortable.

He watched as the white fluffy haired woman picked up one of the pillows, hugging it bone crushingly tight to her chest, resting her head against Niki’s shoulder, who seemed just as worried as Philza was.

He felt immense guilt for the poor woman who sat in front of him, hanging her head in visible shame, watching as her clenched fists shook.  
Puffy had always had such nurturing tendencies, to the point that he had just assumed that she did indeed have children, but he hadn’t expected it to be like this.

Dream was a sick and twisted man, from what Techno had told him. How could someone so fucked up be the son of someone so angelic and kind?

“I adopted Dream, Clay, when he was only little... His father had passed away from cancer, he didn’t have anyone else. I took him in and he was such a kind... A clever boy who loved everyone, who— who would NEVER even think about harming a hair on anyone’s head!” She explained, her lip quivering as she did so, trying to keep her composure.

“Things started changing when the apocalypse began... It was just me and him for about a year, although I met Sam along the way, until we met Schlatt. He was the previous leader of a community, The DSMP, Which is where Dream picked up his nickname.”

“He immediately grew attached to Schlatt. I thought it was because maybe— maybe something in his brain clicked and reminded him of his deceased father, so I thought it was okay to leave him there while I went out on hunts and to make sure things were going okay in the outside world. To help people find a home in the Dream SMP, so nobody was out there alone. We were told they were searching for a cure, so I— I believed them, you know?”

Philza let the woman speak, not daring to interrupt her, knowing how much courage this must of taken her to speak up about all of this. He wondered if anyone else knew, aside from her.

Puffy hugged herself, letting out a shuddery breath, “I didn’t... I didn’t know how they were trying to find a cure. I didn’t bother to ask... I was so busy caught up in my own things, trying to get stuff for Cl— Dream, to make sure he was happy there, while still trying to help my new friends. He made friends! He was so happy, he constantly told me how much happier he was... I believed him. I was so stupid.”

“Oh, Puffy...” he said softly, gently taking her hand into his.

“The first year with them... I didn’t notice the change in him. I don’t know how I didn’t, thinking back on it now it was so— so damn obvious. The way he stared at the dead like they were— were beautiful majestic creatures! I don’t understand how I didn’t see it, Phil... He... He talked about them so often, that Schlatt was talking about them too. I don’t know how I didn’t know. The second year, was when I found out what they were doing...” 

Taking a deep breath, she continued.

“They had a basement. Schlatt was keeping people, mothers, children, in a basement and using them as slaves, lying to people that— that they had been infected and were working on a cure for them. It was bull— language, me— it was a load of poo,” she barked out a laugh, rolling her eyes as she shakily wiped away her tears, “I confronted Schlatt, he told me to leave, that if I tried to tell anyone then he’d kill Dream. Of course, I needed to make sure he was okay... I couldn’t let anything happen to him.”

“Of course, you’re his mother,” Philza hummed in agreement, understanding.

Puffy smiled sadly, “I wish I could of protected him. I let Schlatt manipulate him right under my nose. I went home, I told Clay we were leaving, to start a new family, a new home with the Badlands. He disagreed, he told me that he liked Schlatt, that he had Sapnap and George,” she winced “We argued for hours, it ended up in him telling me he wished I could see what he sees with those dead.”

The woman let out a broken sob, her hands going to her face as she leant over, her voice breaking as she cried, her shoulder shaking.  
Niki, who had been silent the whole time, lovingly rubbed her back, staring blankly at the floor. Clearly feeling unsure of her own feelings, a visible mix of confusion, anger and sadness crossing over her features, her bottom lip wobbling.

Philza could never understand witnessing the corruption of his own child’s mental health, and he truly hoped he never would.

“I wanted to try! I wanted to see what he meant— what he meant when he said they were trying to talk to him!” She cried, sniffling, “Then— then he locked me in one of the damn basements with one of them.”

Philza’s heart stopped.

Her own son had tried to kill her?

She brushed her hair out of her face, “He kept yelling at me that things would be— be better that way, that there was no point trying to be happy if we were alive and human. I killed the dead and he— he cried! He cried, Phil! As if I killed one of his best friends!”

He felt even more confused, but mostly empathy as Puffy cried, trying to keep her composure but failing, crushing in on herself as she allowed Niki to pull her into her arms, the blonde haired woman resting her chin on top of Puffy’s head, closing her eyes as she held her, shushing her with loving affection.   
How could someone just... Not see the dead as monsters? They were so obviously monsters, decaying and falling apart. They smelt like shit too, how could someone not see that?

“I— I was forced to leave,” she whispered, “And I did. I didn’t look back, not for another year, and when I did, I discovered that Clay had changed his name to Dream and was in charge of another community, he was a piece of shit to them... He was constantly sending people in and out of the community, over to Schlatt’s community,” she spat, scrunching her face up “Using them as slaves, and whenever they... They said no... He’d make an example out of them.”  
She sounded sick as she spoke, her nails digging so deep into her palms that trickles of blood began to ran down her arms.

“Puffy... I’m so sorry you went through that—“

“It was my fault,” she whispered, looking up to him, meeting his eyes, “I wasn’t— I wasn’t a good enough mother to my poor little duckling... I didn’t... I didn’t realise he needed help. That was on me. That was all on me.”

Niki shook her head, gently taking her face into her palms, her eyes burning with passion, “No, don’t ever say that Puffy. You were the best mother ever, I just know you were. You are a living breathing Angel in this world full of darkness... Dream is his own demon.”

Puffy flinched so hard that if Philza had looked away, he would of thought the poor girl had been hit.  
It was something she clearly needed to hear, but hadn’t, the way she nodded slowly, a low sob escaping the back of her throat as she let Niki kiss away her tears, relaxing in her embrace, hiding her face in her neck, but still slightly facing Phil, indicating that there was still more she hadn’t shared.

Puffy huffed, “Dream stopped being in charge a year ago here, but that didn’t stop him from hurting, killing and stealing innocent people... He even went to begin taking MY friends. My people... The badlands community hasn’t been the same. First it was Skeppy, then it was Sam...” she glared, blinking away her tears “I think it’s his way of getting back at me...” 

“Getting back at you?” Phil frowned “How so?”

Puffy sighed, sitting up now, a lot calmer, but still full of rage and sadness, “About seven months ago... Maybe less? I’m not too sure, I infiltrated the Dream SMP community, with Ant and Bad. It was meant to be a rescue mission, to help the people in the basements... But we weren’t sure if there were any people there. They left the gates open, people were being eaten left right and centre. Dream saw me, because well of course he did,” she laughed, full of hurt “He told me he’d ruin me, just like I ruined him. That one day I’d finally join him.”

“Maybe I will,” she said softly, “But it won’t be out of choice, and I will make sure he comes with me when I do.”

Her voice was firm now, and Philza could just tell that Puffy would do absolutely anything to take down her son.  
By the burning fury in her eyes, he knew that meant even if she had to take his own life herself. A choice that Phil prayed he would never have to make.  
Killing his own child was something he didn’t ever think would be possible, not in any reality.

Puffy was a strong woman, so seeing her break down in tears in-front of him was unnerving and genuinely upsetting. He just wanted to wrap her up in a tight bear hug, to wipe away her tears and crush anything that hurt her.   
It was funny how he got a fatherly feeling towards basically anyone younger than him, even if it wasn’t by much.

Philza felt an overwhelming sadness just from looking at her face. Something about how someone so brave, strong... Someone so full of genuinity and kindness, look so heartbroken and destroyed, was so soul crushing. 

The world had fucked so many good people up.

All the good people had gotten what they didn’t deserve, while all the bad got exactly what they wanted.

They got away with anything.

“We’ll figure out a plan to get Tommy back home to you, Phil,” Niki said softly, “Maybe then, things will be okay... But Puffy, we may have to... We may have to kill Dream.”

Puffy stiffened, holding her breath.

He could imagine her thoughts running a mile a second inside her head as she scrunched up her face.

“I... I don’t want Dream dead— No, I don’t want CLAY dead... But I think my duckling died years ago,” she spoke solemnly, taking out a soft green blanket, stroking it gently.  
It was clearly sentimental to her.

“My baby... He’s gone, and I just hope I can relieve Dream of his misery. He clearly isn’t happy, he’s causing so much pain and sadness... I can’t keep letting him do this. I’ll do whatever it takes to take him down, even if that means I go with him. If that’s what he truly wants—“

“It won’t come to that,” Niki said defensively “We— We will figure out a plan. You aren’t going anywhere, Puffy.”

Philza watched as the women shared a soft look with one another, his heart swelling with joy, relieved that Puffy obviously had someone who loved her just as much as she loved them.  
She wasn’t as alone as her thoughts told her.  
He sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing his temple slowly as he tried to gather his thoughts, furrowing his brows.

So Puffy was the mother of Dream, the man who put his son into a deep sleep, one whom was very near his deathbed, the other extremely injured, and the OTHER kidnapped.  
Dream was a monster...

But what about Schlatt?

“What about Schlatt?” He asked, repeating his thoughts.

Niki scowled, practically growling, “He disappeared. Dream took charge of the Dream SMP as soon as he did, we have no idea where the monster went. Ever since then, he began building something. We still have no idea what, and quite honestly I don’t want to know...”

The blond man nodded, letting out a heavy sigh as he straightened up, resting his palms in his lap, giving Puffy a soft smile, “Puffy, mate, it’s not your fault at all. What happened was horrible, horrific... But you can’t blame yourself for Dream’s shitty actions. You did your best, you tried so hard to be a mother in these god fucking awful times, it wasn’t your fault. I know it’s hard to believe but it’s really not. I promise.”

“Thank you... Thank you, Phil—“

They were caught off guard by the door being swung open, Hannah practically throwing herself inside, very clearly out of breath and red faced, “Have— Have you seen Wilbur?!”

“What?” Philza instantly stood up, fear creeping in “What do you mean?!”

“He’s— he’s gone!”

Tubbo could tell he was getting sick again. 

His eyes were hurting so bad, the light was practically blinding and as soon as he sat up, he was hit with a wave of dizziness, almost throwing up as he stumbled to his feet.

He needed to start the day, he needed to get food for Fundy, he could go a while without eating, but Fundy certainly could not.  
They had no supplies, not after Dream had attacked them all. They lost absolutely everything, all his gear, all his things. Absolutely everything.  
He had no clue how Fundy had kept hold of Boo the whole time, he wished he had that tight of a grip on some food or something that would actually be useful in this situation.

At least it was keeping the kid sane.

Tubbo could barely make out his own hands, his vision so blurred and fuzzy, patting around just to make sure he didn’t walk into anything. 

Tubbo hated being sick, especially now, he didn’t have time for it, feeling himself losing his breath very quickly with just walking a few steps, finding himself on his knees in a ball of agony very quickly.  
His body felt like it were on fire, beads of sweat streaming past his forehead, panting like a dog in a hot car as he writhed around on the floor, letting out a pained whine.

A hand gently cupped his face, a voice that sounded like it were underwater sounded in his ear. It was probably Ranboo, shakily resting his hand on top of Ranboo’s, whimpering like a kicked puppy.

“Hurt— hurts—“ he gasped, sobbing.

“I know, I know— oh goodness—“ Ranboo muttered, trying to sit Tubbo up, propping him against the wall, pushing some pillows and his only blanket around the skinny shivering boy, his face full of worry, “Oh gosh, what should I do?”

Tubbo whimpered, clinging desperately to Ranboo’s shirt, trying to cover his eyes away from the brightness of the day, his whole body quivering.  
“Ranboo— Ranboo— I’m dying—“

“You’re not dying! Don’t panic— oh gosh— Oh goodness— Um— alright, let’s get you some rest, Hm? That’s probably best, right? You got bit so— uh— your body is in a little bit of shock—“ Ranboo began to ramble, but Tubbo could hardly pay attention.  
He felt like he wasn’t even there, that he was just swaying in the wind as Ranboo picked him up, carrying him into another room and laying him down on a couch, sighing as Tubbo curled in on himself.

To be fair, he wasn’t sure if he was actually dying. He was immune, right? So surely he wouldn’t die.  
He had to go through this pain again? All of this again?

“It won’t be as bad this time! It gets easier to deal with each time,” Ranboo explained softly, trying not to wake Fundy, though by the way the taller boy kept looking over his shoulder, he had a sneaky suspicion that he already had woken him up.

It won’t be as bad this time... Which means everytime he gets bit, he’ll have to go through this hell? That it just simply gets easier to handle?

Tubbo hiccuped, “You are— such— such a bitch—“ he stumbled over his words.

Ranboo looked surprised, but laughed softly as Fundy came clambering into his lap, reaching out worriedly for Tubbo.  
“I get that, I get that. Um. Is there anything I can do? Goodness what should I do? Hmm... No— I’ll get some water—“

He didn’t realise he had grabbed Ranboo’s hand until it was resting gently in his, his big blue eyes lost in Ranboo’s mismatched pair, staring right back at him.  
His eyes landed on the boy’s scarred mouth, cringing. It looked like it must of hurt, but that wasn’t what he wanted to know.

“Did— who did— who did that to you?” He managed to get his words out, watching as Ranboo paled.

Shifting uncomfortably, he shakily picked up his mask, putting it on, hugging Fundy tightly, “You... You should rest, Tubbo.”

“Can you stay— stay with me— me? Please?” His voice cracked, his eyes teary as he sniffled.  
He knew for a fact the hallucinations he had, the weird freaky ass dreams he had suffered from previously would start right up again.   
With the added trauma since then, he knew it would be so much this time around.

The taller boy nodded, keeping a gentle hand on top of Tubbo’s, gently bouncing Fundy, who was crying quietly into his shirt, clearly overwhelmed by the whole situation.

God, he wished he was home right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh poor mama Puffy...
> 
> I wonder who gave Ranboo that scar?
> 
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Surprisingly, Sapnap wants to talk to Technoblade.  
> Wilbur meanwhile, has a breakdown of his own.
> 
> (READ NOTES!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, MANIPULATION, GUILT AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT! PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE ARE TRIGGERS OF YOURS!
> 
> When I say this fic gets dark, I do mean this fic gets dark. I mean, there is a Major Character Death tag for a reason :o

Technoblade couldn’t relax.  
It wasn’t his fault, or anyones fault for that matter. He was just stressed. Bored.  
Worried for his brothers, Fundy too.

Being alone in a room full of silence was... Uncomfortable to say the least, especially when he was so used to being surrounded by the chaotic four.  
It was never quiet when they were altogether, whether they were playing games or arguing, it didn’t matter. Silence was very rarely found.

He was meant to be on bed rest and it sucked. At least he had Enderchest, Ranboo’s cat.  
It was odd, but it felt very relieving and comforting having the cat paw at his chest, letting out a deep purr as Technoblade ran his hand down her back, stroking her with as much gentleness as he possibly could.  
Being alone wasn’t so bad with the cat.  
He found it sweet that she hadn’t left his side the three days he had been here, resting. But he wished he could go see Wilbur.

No, he wasn’t clingy.

But something inside of him was telling him that he needed to be by his side.  
The poor man had just been through hell, and he had a sneaky suspicion that when Wilbur did wake up, things would not go down as well as he hoped they would.

Letting out a groan, he lowered his book, “I hate— Nah, hate is a strong word... I dislike this very much.”

Enderchest chirped, her tail swishing as she cocked her head slightly, staring at him with wide pupils.

“What? You can’t say anything, you are a cat. All cats do is lay down and sleep... I am not a cat, so of course you enjoy it,” he huffed, rolling his eyes.

The cats ears flattened against her head, before perking back up again, turning her attention over to the door as someone knocked. She looked back over to Techno, meowing.

“No I have no idea who that is... Why am I talking to you?” He frowned, before clearing his throat, “Uh— come— come in?”

There was a long pause of hesitation, in which Techno had assumed they had changed their mind, about to return to his reading when the door clicked open and a nervous looking Sapnap entered the room, closing the door behind him.  
He looked up, but the first thing he noticed was that the other man could not meet his eye.

“Hi,” he suffered from a voice crack, quickly coughing into his hand to disguise it.

“Hullo,” he said simply, blinking at him “Have you got news on Wilbur?”

Sapnap blinked, “Oh— uh— No. sorry man. I uh... I wanted to check on you?”

For someone who was speaking as if he was concerned, he definitely sounded confused by his own words. Technoblade raised an eyebrow, staring at him, but sighed, shrugging his shoulders and gently scratching at Enderchest’s ear, who began purring even louder.

“I’m alright... I’m bored out of my mind, but I’m not dead, so that is one thing.”

The other man laughed, kicking the floor with the heel of his boot, “Yeah... Yeah... Um...” taking a deep breath, Sapnap hung his head, “You... I— I’ve met Tommy before.”

Technoblade stilled, his hand stoping petting Enderchest, which immediately alerted to the cat that something was wrong, instantly rubbing herself up against Technoblade, meowing up at him.

“Uh— I was— a few months ago. It was a brief meeting I— I didn’t even know who he was and he didn’t either though! I... I was in a group. Dream sent me out on patrol, said there were some people out and about and they needed to uh... You know... Be taken care of,” Sapnap shuddered, rubbing at his neck.  
“I didn’t want to, but he— he had Quackity... Alex... I didn’t want anything to happen to him so I was— I was pissed off, you know? Course I was.”

Technoblade narrowed his eyes, watching as he gulped.

“I wasn’t the one that shot Tommy! It... It was George, actually... When I got back I felt so bad I haven’t— I haven’t slept well since, I thought we killed him. I act tough and all but... But I’ve never killed an actual living person, you know?”

The pink haired man could understand how scary that probably was for him, but it didn’t hide the anger in his chest, glaring at him with fury.  
He had shot his little brother— Well— His friend had shot his little brother. 

The shorter man silently pulled down his turtleneck, exposing a deep red scar across his neck, avoiding even facing Techno’s direction, but it was obvious enough that he was showing Technoblade the scar.  
“If you... If you disappoint Dream, you get a punishment. I didn’t kill Tommy, or... Anyone. For some reason, only me and Puffy got the punishment. George got nothing. Puffy was... Puffy was Dream’s mom, did you know that? And I thought Dream saw me as his brother...”

He scoffed, looking to the floor, fidgeting with his sleeves, “I should of realised he didn’t care about me. But I— I still struggle with it... That’s— That’s not the point at all. Uh. As I was saying I— I wanted to apologise because... Because... Tommy isn’t—“

“We’ll get Tommy back,” he briskly interrupted him, sitting up properly now, his hands in his lap, giving Sapnap a determined look, “You can apologise to him when we get him back, because we will. Thank you for your apology, but I won’t be needing it.”

Sapnap flinched, his whole posture stiffening now, closing in on himself, “That’s... That’s if he wants to come back.”

“What?”

“Dream had a way of uh... Getting into your head. That’s why it took so long for me to realise how bad he was, and even now I still can’t— get it that much in the old noggin’,” he tried to laugh, to lighten up the situation, but Techno’s flat expression ruined it, quickly continuing on.  
“Tommy might not want to come back because... Because Tommy might see it as his home.”

Everything in Technoblade was screaming for him to just get up and deck Sapnap, to pummel him to a pulp because there was absolutely no way in Hell that Tommy wouldn’t want to come back home with all of them.  
Tommy was loving and kind, even if he was a chaotic little gremlin.  
Sapnap had no idea what he was talking about... That’s what Technoblade wanted to be able to say. But he couldn’t.  
It was painfully obvious that Sapnap was talking from experience.

If it was true, which it probably was, they needed to save Tommy and fast.  
But they also needed to get back Tubbo, Ranboo and Fundy...

Techno went to speak again, to ask more questions, but the door was opened, Hannah rushing in, her face pale.

It didn’t take long for Techno to bolt out of the infirmary.

Wilbur’s heart was racing.

How long had he been asleep? 

He woke up a few minutes ago, staring blankly at the ceiling, piecing things together in his head, trying to figure out why parts of his memory from that night was so blurry.  
The shit had definitely been kicked out of him, his chest hurt, his head hurt— everything hurt.

Someone seemed to have patched him up to the best of their ability, but he was still at a loss for breath.

But that wasn’t what he was focused on, no. He didn’t have time to focus on himself.

Where was Tommy?

Surely, if Tommy were here, he would of woken up from being tackled from the overly energetic boy. Tommy would of swore his ear off by now, screaming and shouting at him for being reckless, although Tommy was equally as reckless as him.  
Tommy wasn’t here, which meant one thing.

Dream had him.

But where was Fundy? Where was Tubbo? Techno?

Where was his family?

Shakily, Wilbur managed to prop himself up enough so he was sitting, biting back a cry of pain as he swung his legs over the side of his bed, already finding himself partially out of breath.  
He slipped to his knees as he got out of the bed, taking a heavy and deep breath, blinking a few times.  
His body felt so weak, fragile. He felt like a china doll, except mixed with extreme agony.

He went to raise his hand, stopping and staring at the bandages wrapped around it, only then remembering that he had been shot, the pain beginning to seep back in at the realisation.  
Was... Was he still going to be able to play guitar?

No—

No that didn’t matter, he had to go save Tommy.

L’manberg could wait, he’ll come back here when he has his family back. Then he’ll kick Dream’s stupid ass.

Wilbur managed to find the strength to pull himself up to his feet, stumbling towards the door, thinking that if he were outside right now, people would probably think he was a walker just by his movements and groans of pain.  
All his injuries were throbbing, his body screaming at him to sit down— to lay down— to just rest, for the love of god.  
But he didn’t want to listen.  
He didn’t have the time necessary to listen, his desperation stronger than his desire to sit the fuck down.

The last thing he remembered was Tommy screaming his name. His nickname.  
‘Wilby’ and god, he sounded so scared.  
That scream would haunt him for the rest of him life.  
He never wanted to hear another person cry out for him like that ever again. 

It was cold, freezing cold, and Wilbur distantly thought to himself, realising that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.  
He’d find one? Yeah, there was probably something in a car. He didn’t have time, the bandages would do for now.  
Although the blood beginning to seep through the white was a slight concern, he couldn’t find it in him to care as he limped down the hallway.  
Everything was quiet, aside from one room that was very clearly occupied, a quiet voice coming from inside.

It sounded familiar.

Comforting.

Gentle...

Was he hallucinating?

There was no way that was Philza.

He saw him, he was hallucinating when he was bleeding out too. He was telling him it would be okay, that he was safe, but... But it definitely wouldn’t of been him. He was dead, so it must of been someone else completely, it was probably— probably...  
Whoever saved him, maybe Niki? Eret?  
It wouldn’t make sense for it to be his deceased father, that just wasn’t possible at all.  
Philza was dead and part of Wilbur died with him. He couldn’t miss his dad right now, he had to get... He had to get his family back together again, before anything awful happened.

Wilbur shoved his shoulder into the door, almost falling straight on the ground as it swung open, catching himself and seething in pain, having to take a moment to lean up against the wall, his eyes darting up to the streetlight.  
It was dark out, probably late night, which made Wilbur feel even worse.  
He really needed to find out how long had passed.  
Was it a day? A week? A few weeks?  
How long had Tommy been with that demon?  
How long had Tommy, Techno and Fundy been missing?

“Okay, okay,” he whispered to himself, taking a step forward and shoving his hand over his mouth as he cried out, falling onto the floor.  
He was in excruciating pain, his body felt as if it were on fire.

He couldn’t stop!

There was no time to stop, he had to save them. He had to save them. That was his job, he couldn’t lose them.  
He couldn’t prove Dream right. He couldn’t prove his thoughts right.  
He had to save his little brothers, his son, Techno. If he didn’t, then what kind of man was he?  
Wilbur, a failure of a brother.  
One who left his family to die.

“I— I can’t—“ he broke, tears falling past his cheeks, “I’m coming, Toms, I’m coming—“

Nobody seemed to be out an about, which was lucky for Wilbur as he managed to get back on his feet, dragging his injured leg as he slowly but surely made his way towards the entrance, where there sat two cars and a van.  
He’d take a car, that’d be easiest, less problems then and maybe they wouldn’t notice right off the bat.  
Niki would scold him if she found out what he was doing, but once again, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Wilbur had always been desperate to prove himself to be a good person, a great sibling too. He needed to be a good person.  
If he wasn’t, then what was the point in existing? Without his family, he was nothing. But without being good, he was pointless.  
He had already lost Philza, the man who helped him become as strong and brave as he was now, the man who raised him, who taught him what real family love was.  
He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t lose his brothers, he couldn’t lose Fundy—

Fundy was all he had left of Sally.

Fundy was his son—

HIS baby.

“Oh god— oh god— Fundy,” his voice broke, “Baby, I’m coming— my little champion, daddy’s coming—“  
Wilbur began to fumble with the handle, his vision blurring.

Why was he never good enough? He could never be the person he needed to be.  
He couldn’t save Sally from herself, he wasn’t able to show her how good the world could be, that even if it had ended, it didn’t mean they couldn’t start again. She was dead and gone.  
It wasn’t him that saved Tubbo, in fact, he had given up. It was Tommy, the youngest. How was that fair on the poor kid? Wilbur was weak. He gave up.

Why was he so weak? So useless?

‘YOU SACK OF SHIT!’ His father had yelled, delivering a harsh kick to his ribs ‘USELESS CRUMB OF NOTHING—‘

His dad was right.  
He really was useless.

Why did he think he could just save Tommy like that? That anything he did mattered? It didn’t.  
It should of been him. Maybe he should of let Dream kill him. Maybe he shouldn’t of woken up.

“WILBUR!” Techno yelled as he raced over, ignoring the aches and pains in his body, more focused and worried for his brother, his best friend, growing closer and closer to the entrance.

Wilbur spun, his eyes wide and alert, as if he had been surrounded by murderers, and without a second to pass, a gun was in his hand, aimed directly towards him and Hannah.  
Hannah immediately shrieked, holding her hands up infront of her.

“TECHNO— HE— HE’S DELIRIOUS WE NEED—“

“WHERE THE FUCK— FUCK IS TOMMY?” Wilbur snapped, giving her no room to speak.

Technoblade noticed very quickly he was clutching his chest, blood beginning to leak through his fingers.  
He couldn’t tell which injury it was that had opened up, whether it was from his chest or his hand, but it wasn’t good either way. Wilbur seemed to be in incredibly awful pain, but stood his ground, growing paler by the second.

“Wil, it’s me— Me and you are safe, we’re in L’manberg—“

Wilbur’s shoulders were hunched in on himself, creeping away, his back right up against the vehicle, and he knew his brother was uncomfortably, but Techno took a step closer.

“You’re suffering from blood loss. We need to get you back into bed, alright? Can you do that with me, Wilbur?”

The brunette shook his head, but his grip on the gun loosened, “Fundy...” he choked out, “I— I failed Fundy... Tommy... Tubbo— They’re all gone— they’re dead, Tech.”

“They’re not dead, Wilbur. We can find them. We have to— we have to figure out a plan to save Tommy. We’ll find Tubbo and Fundy, we will. You gotta trust me, alright?”

Techno held his breath.  
It was situations like this that he was not good at, at all. He was good at comforting his brother, of course he was.  
But when he was manic like this? THIS was something he had never had to deal with, so it was scary.  
He was being thrown into unknown territory and he wasn’t sure what he should say, how he should act.

God was he lucky Philza stayed back.  
If Wilbur was manic now then god, he did not want to see how manic Wilbur would be if Philza had turned up.

“Wilbur, we’re gonna save them. We’re making a plan right now. How are you gonna save them if you’re dead?” He motioned to Wilbur’s chest, which caught the others attention, his face scrunching up, a hiss escaping his lips.  
“See? You’re— You’ll bleed out if you don’t come back with me, Wilbur.”

“I failed,” Wilbur choked out, lowering the gun, sobbing, “I failed— Sally— Sally and Fundy— and—“ 

“No, No you didn’t, Wil. Sally— Sally was tired of the world—“

“So am I,” his brother’s voice was almost silent as he said it.  
His face fell as he spotted his twins gaze fall onto the weapon in his hands, the weapon that could take anyone’s life just by pressing a single trigger.

“Stop,” his voice came much sharper than he intended, but it seemed to do the trick as Wilbur jumped, their eyes meeting briefly.

“Why?” Wilbur whispered, “If I— If I— I can’t be happy, then— then what’s the point?”

“Me,” Techno blurted out.

“Me— what about me?” He stammered over his words, catching himself off guard, but he held his defensive stance.  
“We can save them, Wilbur. Weren’t you wanting to save Tommy? You can still save Tommy. WE can still save Tommy.”

Wilbur sniffled and he could tell that his twin was just barely holding onto consciousness, swaying slightly as his gaze flickered between Techno and the weapon in his hands.  
“I’m— I’m tired, Tech. Why does everyone— everyone leave? Was I not— was I not good enough? Dad never— never thought I was good enough...”

“He’s not our dad anymore, Wilbur. We have... We have Philza.”

“Had,” Wilbur’s voice wavered, “Sally... Phil... Now— now Toms— Tommy, Tubbo and— and my— And my Fundy... None of this is okay— none of it, Tech. I’m tired, I’m tired of pretending it is. I lived and— and they didn’t.”

He didn’t reply, taking a moment to think about what the heck he should say. He couldn’t reply. What was there to say? He could say that everything was okay, but was it really? Nope.  
Their family was missing, their deceased father was most definitely not deceased, and Wilbur wasn’t even aware of that!

Wilbur’s convinced he’s the problem.  
What the heck was he meant to say to that?

“I—I tried SO hard— so hard to be the best— best brother ever, Techno! I tried so hard to— to keep everything going and to... To make dad proud! Because— because I didn’t want to let them down! I didn’t— I didn’t want to let dad down...” Wilbur let out a low moan of pain, blood dripping from his hand onto the ground below him, but his gaze never left Techno’s, giving him a sad smile, letting out a forced laugh.  
“I— I never was good enough, was I? Even a complete— complete stranger knew that... It should of been— been me. Not dad.”

Techno’s heart stopped at those words.

Wilbur scoffed, “Why— why am I always the— the one that suffers? Why can’t— Why can’t someone ask me if— if I’m okay? Sally’s dead— my parents NEVER loved me— Tommy’s gone and— and Fundy and Tubbo— my Fundy...”

There wasn’t much Techno could say, if anything. He knew Wilbur wasn’t thinking straight, it was obvious in the way he spoke, the way he was wording things. But the pain was so real.

So vivid and visible, it was seeping through his movements, his speech. Everything about him leaked heartache.

Empathy was apparently something important for everyone to have, and Techno did have empathy, but he definitely lacked in that department. He had never been good at comforting but in these moments?  
He wished he was a therapist or something.

“Never ever— NEVER— No action that I-I that I- I’ve done has really mattered,” the tears fell harder, beginning to crumple in on himself, his face full of silent hurt, but his voice seemed to relax a bit as he gasped.

“Maybe— maybe Dream was— was right. I—I should of gone with Sally.”

Everything moved fast once Wilbur seemed to settle on his thoughts, making his mind up.  
But he was not going to have that.

Technoblade threw himself at his brother as soon as Wilbur lifted the gun towards himself, ignoring Wilbur’s pained screaming as he wrestled with him, trying to tug the gun out of his surprisingly strong grip.  
Wilbur’s yelling sounded like it hurt, like his throat was being scratched by sandpaper and Technoblade didn’t even want to think about how many wounds he had just reopened by throwing himself at him.

“GIVE ME THE GUN, WILBUR! YOU AREN’T IN THE RIGHT HEADSPACE YOU FOOL—“ Techno yelled at him, squeezing his hand, which resulted in Wilbur screaming out, dropping the weapon and falling limp.

Wilbur sobbed, laying flat on his back as he pulled his bloody hands up to his face, sobbing into his palms desperately, a low moan of heartache escaping the back of his throat.  
He repeated, whispering for Techno to end it so he didn’t have to, that he was tired, that he was so tired.  
The pink haired man instead brought him into his arms, protectively wrapping his arms around his frail body, acting as a shield as other ran to the scene, all surprised and horrified.

The amount of blood pouring from Wilbur was concerning.

“I’m so— I’m so tired, Techno,” his voice cracked, clinging to his brothers shirt, “kill me.”

“I know, Wilbur, I know. Let’s— Let’s get you back and we can rest okay? We’ll talk about it later.”

“Please—“

Techno glared at him, shutting his twin up instantly. They were rarely mad at each other, so whenever Techno did look angry, it always shut Wilbur up.  
Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was angry, upset or relieved at that moment. The amount of emotions surging through him right now was overwhelming.  
Beads of sweat running past his forehead as he clutched at Wilbur desperately, telling himself to never let him go.  
To keep him in his grasp, keep him within arms reach.

Just incase.

Hannah cleared her throat, nervously making her way over, crouching beside the pair of them, giving Technoblade a worried expression, “We— We need to bring him back in. He’s opened his stitches if— if we don’t now, he’ll bleed out.”

Technoblade nodded, getting to his feet as he brought Wilbur into his arms, carrying him bridal style, letting his taller brother settle into his embrace like a child, clinging to him weakly and letting out quiet whimpers of pain.  
Quite honestly, he was amazed that Wilbur had lasted this long being awake and on his feet.  
He was always so strong when he had the motivation... How did he lose it so quickly? 

This world...

Fuck this world.

As they grew closer, spotting Philza, who was pacing outside. Their eyes met and instantly his father perked up, excitement gleaming in his eyes, but the colour drained from his face as soon as he realised the severity of the situation.  
The older man rushed over faster than Techno could blink, by his side instantly as he cupped his son’s face in his hands, pressing a loving kiss to Techno’s forehead.  
He turned his attention to Wilbur then, gently wiping the blood from his cheek.

“Oh... Oh my stupid son,” he laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead just as he had done to Techno.

Wilbur’s eyes were wide, unblinking as he looked to Philza, seeming a lot more awake than he had a few seconds ago, his hand raising up to Philza’s face.  
He let out a shaky breath as his fingertips felt skin, tears bubbling down his cheeks as everything seemed to click perfectly into place.

“Dad?” He croaked.

Philza nodded, letting himself cry as he nodded enthusiastically, “Oh my darling son, I’m home— I’m home, Wil—“ he took Wilbur from Techno’s arms, holding him a tight embrace, tangling his fingers in his hair.  
His son melted at the touch, his breath fast and shallow as he clung to him, wailing as they crumpled to the floor together.

Hannah looked on impatiently, concern laced in her features.  
But all Techno could do was watch with a throbbing heart.  
He had a feeling Wilbur couldn’t tell whether it was real or not, but the man didn’t seem to care, relieved to have the one person who repeatedly showed how much he loved him, holding him and whispering caring reassurances.

“Don’t let— don’t let go, dad— don’t let go—“ he choked on his tears, letting his father shush him lovingly.

“Never again. Never my darling boy, never...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Wilbur v_v 
> 
> If you feel the way Wilbur feels in this chapter, please do not be afraid to reach out.  
> You are loved, you are important and you are valued, even if your nasty mind tells you otherwise.  
> You are not alone and you never will be alone! Things will be okay <3 ^_^
> 
> ALSO FOR THE SAPNAP THING, IF YOU HAVEN’T READ WHAT THAT CONVERSATION WAS ABOUT OR ARE CONFUSED, READ THIS!   
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510104


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Ranboo is dealing with a very unwell Tubbo and Fundy just is not having a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter I do believe! ^_^ Definitely not THAT fluffy though, so enjoy. This one is an interesting one!
> 
> Join the discord for updates and more info! ^_^  
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

The rain was a rare occasion nowadays.

There was no real reason to it, it just was. Funny how the world worked. 

Rain was calming, a reassurance that the world was still semi working. That sometimes, if you waited long enough, good things would happen.  
Ranboo liked the rain, although his skin was sensitive, sometimes getting too wet would make his skin feel like it was burning.  
He had no idea why that was.

Reaching over, he picked up his journal, flicking through the pages until he got to the brightly coloured purple pages, the few that stuck out the most.  
That’s where he wrote the most important things, just so he knew he could remember.  
His memory was good with the super traumatic things he went through, which sucked. If only he was good at forgetting that.

Ah, there it was.

He wrote down that he had a feeling it was related to his immunity, although Philza didn’t feel that... Maybe their immunity was different?

He’d ask Tubbo, when Tubbo was feeling a little bit better, and then when they were finally reunited, he’d ask Philza too.  
Maybe with both him and Tubbo, they could piece the broken memories up.  
Fix up the mess and fit the puzzle pieces together, figure it all out.

The three of them, Him, Tubbo and Fundy, had been in the home for a few days now... Three? Four? He honestly wasn’t entirely sure, he just knew that a few days had definitely passed.  
He glanced to his book, going to the recent pages and smiled to himself.  
Five lines, which meant it had been five days. Good to know.  
Making tally charts of the days when he began new adventures or stayed in new places was good and helpful! It had been Phil’s suggestion.

He sort of missed Phil...

Maybe he would know how to help Tubbo.

Ranboo wasn’t too worried, because there wasn’t much to worry about.

He knew Tubbo wouldn’t turn, so he wasn’t scared. But he still had to make sure he didn’t die from the fever. Thankfully, it seemed to be doing okay.  
His skin wasn’t as pale and sweaty, the sleeping boy was no longer panting for breath like a dog.  
Tubbo laid flat on his back, a damp piece of fabric that Ranboo had to rip his shirt for placed onto his head, sighing as he sat back on the floor, adjusting Fundy who was in his lap, suckling on his thumb.

Being reunited with Fundy was nice.  
He couldn’t remember much of their time together, but he definitely felt a lot safer and calmer, braver too— And Ranboo was not a very brave person.  
He rarely killed the dead. Only when he REALLY had to.  
Honestly, he wasn’t sure how he lived this long and made it this far...

Of course, Phil helped him a lot!  
But what about before Phil? After the basement. Before Puffy.

How the heck did he survive?

He didn’t want to think about it.

Fundy hadn’t spoken much, it was beginning to worry Ranboo.  
Did he speak often anyway? He didn’t know the little boy well enough to figure out if there was actually something wrong or not.  
Walking through that... plague of zombies must of been scary, he can’t blame Fundy for not wanting to speak. He probably knew that if he said anything, they’d be screwed.  
Maybe he still thought that?

Fundy’s gentle grip tightened on Ranboo’s shirt, looking down to the redhead to see his bottom lip quivering.  
Ranboo was about to ask what he needed, interrupted by the sound of his stomach growling.

“... Oh,” he said simply, furrowing his brows, “You’re hungry?”

Fundy nodded.

“Oh... Right, well, we should probably find some food, right?”

The little boy whimpered, suckling on his teddy bear’s arm as he opened his mouth to speak, “Tech has food.”

The older boy gulped, rubbing his face, “Right... Well, we don’t,” he said simply, realising it was probably not the best response when Fundy faltered, shrinking and tightening his grasp on his teddy bear, Boo.

What do kids eat? Do they eat normal food? Wait— How was he going to find food?

Glancing to Tubbo, he sighed. He couldn’t leave Tubbo alone, but he couldn’t leave Fundy and Tubbo alone.  
If he left Fundy with a sleeping Tubbo, there was a possibility that the younger decided to go off on his own and search for his Father, or he could put something in his mouth, or he could get sick too or... or literally anything.  
If he left Tubbo alone, Tubbo could get too cold, or too hot, or he could pass away from his fever or someone could find and kidnap him...

Maybe... Maybe he could give Tubbo a piggyback ride? Then he could get Fundy to walk, and they’d all be together!

Oh god this was going to go awful.

It was going about as awful as Ranboo had expected it to go.

Tubbo was shivering, his skin cold to the touch, it felt like it was burning at the same time, and Ranboo really hoped his skin wasn’t as sensitive as his was.  
He wasn’t surprised, it was getting much colder out, even looking up he could clearly see the dark cloud in the sky, rain beginning to fall.  
Fundy’s small hand was in his, but he could tell the younger boy was getting sleepy. Bored of walking.  
His eyelids were fluttering, trying to force himself awake as he trudged along, practically glued to Ranboo’s side, afraid to leave.

It was, thankfully, very quiet.

A few of the dead ones off in the distance, but not close enough for it to be their main concern. What was their concern was that they had been searching different places for almost four hours now with no luck.  
There was... Nothing.  
Everything had already been taken, and what had been left was all bad and gross.  
They’d definitely get sick if they ate it, and unfortunately, they couldn’t take that risk with an already unwell Tubbo and a very young Fundy.  
Ranboo would usually take that risk, he did many times when it had just been him and Philza.

Fundy’s groaned, his free hand went to his stomach, sniffling.  
Upon closer inspection, the tips of the little boy’s ears and nose were a red colour, his fingers almost blue.  
Jeez, he really should of been paying closer attention.  
He stopped in his tracks, lowering Tubbo off of his back, holding him up as he began to wake up.

“Hey, Tubbo, do you— Um. Can you walk for a bit? You can lean on me, but Fundy is getting tired...” he looked down to the redhead, who seemed to be crying again.

“Want daddy,” his voice broke, “I want daddy.”

Tubbo looked exhausted, but he nodded anyway, letting Ranboo scoop up Fundy into his arms, tucking him under his coat, relaxing as soon as the warmth hit him, the small boy clinging to him as much as he could.  
It was breaking his heart, listening to his teeth chattering.  
Thankfully, the rain usually slowed the zombies down, but it made colds and fevers... so much worse. They needed to find shelter and fast.  
They were too far from their home now, they had to go into one of the buildings nearby.

Ranboo sighed, “Um, we— we’ll find your dad soon! We just have to wait for Tubbo to get better, okay?” He flashed the little boy a smile, frowning as Tubbo’s weight against his shoulder grew heavier, only then realising that the brunette was passing out.

Quickly he let go of Fundy, catching Tubbo before he could hit the ground, laying him down, staring at him with wide eyes.  
The boy looked to be getting worse and worse, his breathing shallow and fast, practically panting like a dog as he tried to breathe.  
He was most likely falling into the worst parts of the fever, and they were really not in the right place for this.

“Oh goodness— oh gosh— Fundy stay close—“ he rested the back of his hand against Tubbo’s forehead, the concern growing knowing just how hot his skin was.

There wasn’t much they could do.  
They were going to starve to death, or they were going to die from a fever. Which one would Ranboo prefer? He wasn’t entirely sure! 

“Tubbo’s dead!” Fundy shrieked, looking around desperately, “Want— dad— DADDY! I WANT DADDY! I WANT DADDY—“ he began to chant, growing more and more distressed by the second, drawing the attention of all near by zombies, which was exactly what they needed right now!

“DADDY! MAMA! SORRY! SORRY I WANT DADDY—“

Ranboo flinched, looking from Tubbo to Fundy, reaching out to grab Fundy by his arm, almost panicking immediately as Fundy backed up, right into one of the dead.  
The kid seemed to realise before it could grab him, screaming out in fear and stumbling forward, racing into Ranboo’s arms, wrapping his arms around his thin waist as the two fell on their asses to the floor, staring in horror as the zombie dragged itself closer and closer to them.

“DADDY— DADDY SAVE ME—“ he sobbed, pressing his face into Ranboo’s chest.

Ranboo fumbled with the gun he had managed to find, praying it had bullets in it, pressing down on the trigger, just to be met with nothing.  
He kept trying to press it, silently begging for the empty barrel to take the monster out anyway.

Oh god— oh god this was it— he couldn’t leave Tubbo behind—

A gunshot rung out, distracting them from the dire situation, both of the boys staring in surprise as the zombie swayed, hitting the wet ground with a thud, Ranboo protectively keeping Fundy from the splash of blood and water from the ground. Looking up, his eyes caught onto two figures.  
One of them were wearing an oversized bright blue sonic onesie, tucked into cowboy styled boots.  
The other man wore a full on dress up suit, a red tie, not a speck of blood in sight, his eyes wide in surprise as they landed on the three kids, raising an eyebrow towards the other.

The man with the tux let out an overly exaggerated sigh, rolling his shoulders as he lolled his head to the side “Really, Connor? Kids?”

“What? How the fuck would I know their age?”

The man wearing the suit huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, tightening his grip on his gun, “And I thought we were going to fuck those bastards up if they came searching for us again.. Jesus Christ.”

Connor, Ranboo guessed was his name, frowned, motioning towards Tubbo, “Hey. What’s his deal?”

Ranboo frowned.  
He recognised those two, but he couldn’t piece together where from. There was definitely something very familiar about them, and he recognised in the taller man’s eyes, the one wearing the suit, he had some sort of familiarity flash in his too as they stared at one another.  
Something in his chest tightened, his scar beginning to ache.

“Hey. You listening?” Connor asked again, waving his hand, much closer than Ranboo had last noticed, blinking.

Glancing over, he checked Tubbo’s pulse, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, glad that he was still breathing and alive.  
“I— I uh— he has a fever,” he speaks quietly, hugging Fundy tighter, an usual urge to protect him taking over, “We— We don’t have anything to help we—“

“Do you remember me?” The unnamed man spoke up, interrupting him, “You look freaked out, kid.”

Ranboo frowned.

Scoffing, the man kicked the floor, shoving his gun into its holster and hiding his hands in his pockets, “I thought so. Fine. Hey, Connor, let’s bring them back. Maybe they can help us out, what’dya think?”

Connor looked confused, eyeing the three of them, “They are literal kids, Schlatt. They’ll be fucking useless.”

“Pity votes?”

After a moments hesitation, Connor shrugged, “Eh, they might not shoot us immediately. Need some help carrying your friend?”

Ranboo wanted to say no—

“Just say yes,” The one named Schlatt didn’t let him think, staring at him, “It’s better if you just come with us. Those fuckin’ zombies will be here any minute now. Your stupid fuckin’ safe haven hasn’t got shit on us.” 

He nodded, giving in to the man’s order, but he kept Fundy close, not letting Schlatt or Connor even look at the little boy. Tubbo was whimpering now, twitching in his sleep, and he could only hope his friend wouldn’t suffer from those horrible nightmares.  
They really sucked.  
Ranboo’s arms wrapped around Fundy, looking down to him, meeting his big soft brown eyes, his small hands coming up to gently pat at his cheeks, which were covered by his mask.

The kid looked scared, but Ranboo couldn’t pin point exactly why that was.  
Fundy had many reasons to be scared, after all, he was away from his father... Who even was his father? Where was Sally?  
He was also in the middle of nowhere with just him and Tubbo, and now he was going back home with two grown strangers, or well, he thought they were strangers, one of them seemed to know him.

“Fundy? You’re being really brave!” He whispered, hugging him, letting the kid clutch his teddy bear, curling in on himself.

Ranboo followed behind the two men, walking right in the middle of the road as they began their journey, which he had no idea how long it would be, but by the chillaxed expressions of the two, he assumed it wasn’t too far.  
Schlatt occasionally looked over his shoulder towards him, his face unreadable, and that made him all the more nervous.

Looking around, he realised they were in a very... Modern area, where if the zombie apocalypse hadn’t had began, the rich people of the world would probably live in.  
A lot of the houses seemed to have already been raided and broken apart, but one of them, which again, still wasn’t looking it’s best, not in great shape, was the one he assumed they were headed towards.  
The gates were shut, two zombies clawing at it and groaning, a dog barking from the inside.

“What the hell is up with that dog, man?” Connor muttered, sighing, “Want me to sort it? You can take the kid—“

“Nah,” Schlatt smirked, raising an eyebrow towards Ranboo, “I’ll show off for you, Hm?”

That wasn’t a question, Ranboo realised, stopping himself from answering.  
He watched in silence as the tall man walked over, taking out a knife— from God knows where— sneaking up behind the two dead creatures, lightly tapping one of their shoulders.  
It turned, but before it could properly face him, Schlatt punched it, right in the face.  
That’s when he noticed the knuckle duster, the sharp weapon on his hand, jumping at every punch that was delivered to the dead man’s head, until all that was left behind was mush.

Fundy gasped in shock, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, “I want daddy—“

“Your daddy’s probably dead, kid,” the man scoffed, taking out his gun and shooting the other zombie just as fast as it lunged at him, blowing on the end of it, “Your buddies probably got fucked up real bad.”

Ranboo frowned, growing more irritated by the second due to him upsetting Fundy, his voice cracking as he spoke, “How— How do you know?”

Schlatt chuckled, shrugging as he took a step, watching as the gates opened, “I used to run the place, until the crazy bastard took over. Thought I was gonna own that place forever,” he sighed “Shame really. Eh, I don’t give a shit. It was all to keep me safe anyhow.”

“You’re a fucking coward, that’s why, asshole,” Connor mumbled, groaning as the dog came barrelling out.

The dog was limping, whimpering as he ran, but he made his way immediately over to Connor, barking up at him— no— he was barking at Tubbo?

Fundy perked up, his eyes widening.  
“Henry!”

The dog perked up at the name, looking over to the kid, beginning to cry as he started jumping at Ranboo until he let go of Fundy, watching as the kid wrapped his arms around the animals neck, crying into his fur, clutching it gently.  
The dog seemed just as pleased as Fundy was to see him, whimpering softly and licking at his tears, pawing at his chest.  
It was nice to see Fundy finally smiling, whispering about how cute he was.  
The kid’s face dropped seeing the bandages wrapped around Henry, looking up to Schlatt.

“You hurt doggy,” he stated simply, greatly displeased.

Schlatt instantly frowned, “The fuck? No I did not.”

“Hurt Henry!”

“What the fuck is this? An interrogation? You’re like. Four years old, back off kid before I drop kick you into nothingness,” he spat, rolling his eyes, but something about him told Ranboo he was joking.

“I patched the fucker up, bitch wouldn’t stop barking.”

“What he means, kid, was that I patched him up because Schlatt was too busy crying over how sad it looked—“

“Connor I will shoot you in the fucking head I do not care about this child’s emotional well-being, I will shoot your ass right in front of him,” Schlatt repeated himself as he walked over, picking Fundy up, whom, surprisingly, didn’t seem to interject, his face full of rage though.

Never in his life did Ranboo think he would ever see a baby mad.  
He had to hold back a laugh as Fundy hit him in the head, his hand flying to his mask to make sure it stayed on.

Schlatt stared blankly into space, gritting his teeth, “... I will drop you.”

“You hurt doggy.”

“I will kill doggy if you continue, kid.”

Schlatt began to walk into the garden first, stopping in his tracks, letting Connor walk past, the man wearing the onesie whispering something about medication, watching silently as Schlatt nodded.  
Looking over, he sighed.  
“Look kid, I didn’t exactly plan on seeing you again. Didn’t realise I’d have to confront my demons this fast,” Schlatt was bouncing Fundy slightly, letting the kid suckle on Boo.

“If you come inside you kids can rest, then we can talk. You can ask me questions, since for some reason you look fucking clueless,” he laughed, rolling his eyes, motioning inside “Besides, those idiots don’t know how to search houses properly. You’ll be safe here. Dream will be too busy focused on his new toy, if he got what he wanted, and by the looks of things, he did.”

Dream?

Ranboo felt sick, “Is... Dream here?” He whispered, feeling a lot smaller than he previously had.  
He couldn’t exactly remember who this guy, Dream, was. But the name was familiar and the fear that he felt was very real.

“Huh. You remember him?” The mans face surprisingly softened, shaking his head, “Just get inside, you idiot. I’ll explain after we fix your friend.”

Tommy didn’t like it in the basement.

That was a pretty plain obvious fact, considering the amount of times he had a panic attack and had to have Sam sing to him in order for him to calm down.

It was stuffy and cold and warm all at the same time, the temperature never stayed the same. Everytime light was let into the room, he discovered more and more things that made him concerned. Especially the dry and mostly faded blood splatter across the walls— don’t even get him started on the small bone looking things in the corner. The dead rats too. Gross.  
He wondered how many jokes Techno would have made if Techno was here and... Alive.

But at least the chains were now off of him, the threat still looming as he looked to the chains that had been discarded on the floor.

Dream had removed them because apparently he had good behaviour, and Tommy had to force himself to stop him from biting the masked man’s hand after he pet his cheek like a dog.  
The blond had noticed very quickly that Dream had been treating him like a pet, and he didn’t like it one bit.

He wishes the guy just would of killed him.

Tommy’s wrists were sore and red, scratched too and Tommy really wondered if he would be able to get out of there.  
Everything about this was just fucked up, but he didn’t know what else to think.

Maybe he had to just... Behave.

If he behaved well, listened to people, then maybe— JUST maybe, they’d be nice enough to let him go out for walks?  
They pulled Sam out everyday, and although he came back looking exhausted and pained, he assumed the fresh air was good for him, because he always told Tommy it was worth it.

The door opened at the top of the stairs, someone making their way down, carrying a bucket and a lantern, which lightened up the room.  
This was the second time someone came down, and Tommy couldn’t help but feel nervous as he backed up against Sam, who put an arm around his shoulder as a gentle reassurance.

The figure got closer, clearing their throat as they crouched down in front of Sam and Tommy, putting the bucket and lantern down.  
It gave him enough light to meet the mans eyes, who he recognised as one of the bastards that came to L’manberg.  
Except this time, he looked a lot calmer, especially towards Sam.

“Ponkie, are you... Are you alright?” Sam asked softly, a small smile on his face.

Ponkie? That was a weird ass name.  
But looking up to Sam’s face, he realised why the other looked so concerned.  
Sam was wearing a black eye, blood beginning to dry up around his nose and mouth, his face pale.  
He looked like utter shit, and something inside of Tommy began to grow.  
He wasn’t sure if it was rage or concern.  
It was funny how it only took a few days for him to grow emotionally attached to Sam, but at least he had someone to protect him.

“Hi Sam,” Ponk said quietly, “I... Came down to wash your face!”

The green haired man let out a soft hum, nodding as he gave Tommy’s hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s alright, Tommy... He’s a friend,” he confirmed, frowning for a moment as he looked to Ponk “Have you got any snacks, Ponk? Tommy here hasn’t eaten in a bit... Dream must have forgotten.”

The masked man thought for a moment, before nodding, taking out an apple and offering it to Tommy, who quickly snatched it out of his hand, holding it protectively to his chest.  
No, he wasn’t sure why he felt so possessive over it, but he knew for a fact he should keep his guard up around anyone that wasn’t Sam.

Sam had already proved himself to be a good person, and he seemed to be friends with some of the people from L’manberg from what he heard, so he was good in his books.  
Apparently, Sam had a son. It was the guy named Quackity that Tommy found absolutely hilarious. Sam had unofficially adopted when he was in his late teens, but he didn’t say any more than that.  
Quackity was a nice fella.

His stomach was twisting, and in so much pain to the point he thought he would throw up if he did eat. Taking a bite out of the juicy red apple, he did think for a moment he was going to puke.  
But then the flavour sunk in and he couldn’t help himself from taking another bite.  
He felt as if he hadn’t eaten in years, but that definitely wasn’t the case. He completely forgot he should share with Sam, but by the looks of the other man, he had a feeling Sam didn’t mind all too much.

He watched the gentle touches from Ponk towards his friend.  
Ponk was carefully dabbing at the dry blood, his face, from what Tommy could see, scrunched up and worried as Sam seethed, but he raised a hand to rest on top of Ponk’s, giving him a strained smile to let him know that it was okay, even if it seemed to hurt.  
The other let out a shaky sigh, hanging his head in shame, but Sam cupped his face, shaking his head.

They weren’t saying anything, but the way they were exchanging looks told Tommy everything he needed to know.  
Ponk was apologising for something, while Sam was trying to tell him it was okay.

“Fran is okay,” he said suddenly “She— She’s gone to L’manberg, with George, to pick up Sapnap. She’ll probably stay there with Quackity.”

Sam hummed, “Alright... Quackity will take care of her.”

“Who’s Fran?” Tommy piped up, the guilt of interrupting their conversation eating away at him, but he was curious and couldn’t keep the thought inside his head “Is she— is she your girlfriend?”

Ponk held back a laugh, little sniffles of laughter escaping him as Sam chuckled, shaking his head.  
“Fran— Fran is my support dog,” he explained quietly “I... I can’t have her here anymore.”

The ‘Dream won’t let me’ was unsaid, but the three of them knew it.

“Fran?... What— What kind of dog is she?” He asked quietly, which surprised himself, he wasn’t usually this quiet “Not that I give a shit—“

“She’s a husky,” Sam replied, gently ruffling Tommy’s hair, chuckling lightly as Tommy fought away at him, huffing.

Tommy smiled, perking up a lot more now, “Henry was a greyhound! He’s so fast and shit, we used to go running around and—“ stopping mid way at the pit of despair in his stomach.  
Remembering the yelp.

Both Ponk and Sam seemed to notice, a sad expression on their face, Sam giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and Tommy couldn’t help but lean into the touch.  
He knew he wasn’t acting like his normal self, but could he?  
He was still wondering why the hell Dream killed all of his family.  
Why the sick bastard left him alive.

He really hoped they didn’t suffer in their final moments.

“Sam... Dream wants help with the thing, you know that, right?” 

The green haired man paused, furrowing his brows as he gently took hold of Ponk’s hand, letting it cup his cheek, “Mhm... It’s one of the reasons little Tommy is here. He won’t be touching any of it though. I’ll just work harder, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Little Tommy made something in him feel warm and giddy, but he was not little, he was a big man.  
Maybe it was because he was still so emotional, scooting closer to Sam, glaring intensely at Ponk.

Ponk nodded, pulling back and fidgeting with his fingers, “Um... The thing is happening again tonight. Tommy is meant to be there.”

His friend paused at that, staring intensely at Ponk, his soft smile dropping completely from his face.  
“He’s a child.”

“I know—“

“Why? Why would he—“

“I’m sorry Sam... I—I tried to talk him out of it,” the masked man lightly touched his face, and Sam gave him a look of understanding, about to remove his mask, but was stopped by Ponk’s hand, shaking his head “I should probably go now. Sacrifice needs to be fed.”

“The fuck?” Tommy’s eyes widened, “Sacrifice?! Is this shit a cult?”

Ponk gave him a smile— or well, he assumed he was smiling, since his eyes lit up, “Yup! But Sacrifice isn’t a sacrifice. She’s my cat!” 

This WAS a cult? What the fuck?  
What in the fuck did that mean? Why wasn’t Sam telling him it was just a joke?

Tommy watched in stunned silence as Ponk gave Sam a tight hug, narrowing his eyes when it lingered a lot longer than a hug usually would.  
The glances they gave one another reminded him of how Wilbur and Sally had looked at one another, his parents too.

He jumped out of his skin when they were stuck in darkness again after Ponk had left, his hand gripping onto Sam’s shirt as if he were his lifeline.  
The blond quite honestly felt like a baby, hiding in Sam like that. But he reminded him so much of his brothers and he missed them so much.  
It was lucky that Sam didn’t seem to mind at all, relaxing at his touch and gently rubbing circles against his back.

The younger of the two was concerned about what Dream wanted for him, he missed L’manberg... He missed his family.

He missed Wilbur’s soft singing, his smile and his laugh. The way that no matter what, Wilbur always found time to talk to him, to spend time with him.  
He missed Techno’s stupid monotone voice, the way he didn’t exactly know what to say, but knew that Tommy sometimes just needed a hug, or a game to play. Sometimes he wishes Technoblade was still here to braid his growing hair.  
He missed Tubbo, his stupid ugly green shirt, how clingy he was— even if they both knew they were both as clingy as each other— he missed his ability to practically read his mind.  
He missed Fundy and his fucking loud screaming whenever he got excited.

Why did it hurt so bad?

“Tommy?... You’re thinking pretty loudly,” Sam said softly, “Whatever you’re thinking, it will be okay. We’ll get you back to L’manberg.”

Sniffling, Tommy nodded, shakily wiping his eyes and curling into Sam, thinking, trying to bring his thoughts to something funny that he can focus on.  
He pulled away from Sam slightly, still able to see him, noticing the older man’s curious look as Tommy opened his mouth.

“Are you in love with Ponk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How are you readers feeling about this chapter? :o


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Philza spends some very much needed time with his boys, while Ranboo learns more about Schlatt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: TALK OF DEATH
> 
> No extra warnings for today, this is more reserved angst since I do not want to overwhelm you readers with the hurt!   
> So take some hurt/comfort with a little mix of humour ^_^ 
> 
> Also, if you haven’t joined yet, we have a discord for this AU! Come join and talk with other fans, or ask me questions! <3  
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

The sun was rising, beautiful pinks and soft blues glazing the skies, the clouds soft and fluffy looking, and if the world wasn’t in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, you’d think it was Heaven.

You didn’t often get to appreciate nature’s beauty, not when you were running for your life, fighting for your life, or hiding for your life.   
But for now, Philza could watch as the sun rose, his son’s head against his shoulder, laying on their bed, the curtains drawn open.

A few days had passed since Wilbur’s breakdown, and after he had opened a majority of his wounds back up, he now was forced to be on bedrest until things started to heal back up.  
Which, Philza was going to suggest anyway, but at least they were now safe in Wilbur’s home.

It was nice, but when he had carried Wilbur in with help from Techno, the man couldn’t help but break down into tears at the sight of some of his sons toys scattered on the floor.  
The kid’s bedroom had been left untouched, Phil nor Techno wanted to step inside, and Wilbur was stuck in bed, so they all decided to just... Not look.

It was a painful memory, especially since Wilbur was convinced his son, his little brothers, were dead, and that there was no point in looking for them, because they were long gone.  
On the inside, Philza was also scared to go and look for his boys, scared for what he could find. Just thinking about walking into a zombified version of his sons left him feeling... sick, to put it simply.  
Phil wasn’t sure if he would be able to bring himself to end their lives.

Ranboo was... Not very good at defending himself, but he was still alive after— how long? Of being alone?  
So truthfully, he wasn’t too worried for the boy. He was good at hiding and getting out of sticky situations when needed.  
Tubbo was incredibly smart for his age, and he knew exactly when to be serious and when he needed to be cautious.  
He was mainly concerned about the fact that... They don’t know what condition Dream’s pals left Tubbo or Fundy in.

Fundy was apparently only five years old, which meant he was still in the ‘throwing tantrums and crying a lot’ stage, which was scary to think about two sixteen year olds— two CHILDREN looking after a literal baby.  
Would they even know how? Looking after a child in a zombie apocalypse was hard enough for adults, it must be near impossible for children to look after smaller children.

Of course, he never voiced his concerns.  
Wilbur was stressed enough as it is, Techno too.  
The pinkette had been pacing all morning, his braid all tangled and messy from being pulled on and fiddled with, something that Technoblade did when he was stressed and didn’t have something to fidget with.

Philza let out a soft sigh, manuvering Wilbur’s head slightly so it wasn’t as uncomfortable against his collarbone.  
The man was half asleep, occasionally fluttering his eyelashes to look to Techno in quiet concern, but falling back to just enjoying the comfort and warmth of his father.  
Truthfully, Phil was enjoying it just as much as Wilbur was. He hadn’t been able to hold his children in God knows how long, so being able to cuddle and spend time with his kids was... Heavenly.

And yes, they may not be children anymore, but they would always be his babies.

“Techno, mate, you’ve got to stop pacing. You’re exhausting my legs just looking at you,” Phil joked softly, sighing, motioning for him to come over, “Come on, let me sort out your hair.”

Techno huffed, shaking his head, “Nothin’s wrong with my hair,” he muttered, but obediently went over, sitting right on the edge of his bed, hanging his head.

Gently, he pried Wilbur off of him, lovingly shushing him as Wilbur went to complain, brushing his hair out of his eyes and giving him a gentle smile.  
Sometimes he still behaved like sixteen year old Wil...

“I’m sick an’ tired of sitting here, Phil,” Techno finally admitted, his shoulders slouching, leaning his head back for Philza to take all of his hair into his hands, sitting behind him as he snatched up a brush, delicately parting his sections and beginning to untangle the messy braids, confused as to how Techno got it so messed up so fast.

“I know, mate. I know, I don’t like it either, but you two are meant to be resting, and I know you idiots won’t if I leave,” Phil gently knocked the top of his head with the brush, smirking as Techno grumbled a ‘stop’.

Taking a deep breath, the younger man silently agreed, fidgeting with his sleeves, “You’re right... We probably would of gone after you.”

“Sometimes I think you two actively have a death wish,” Phil sighed, almost forgetting about the situation that had occurred only a few days, quickly snapping to look in Wilbur’s direction.

Wilbur didn’t seem phased, laying still, a soft bloodied pig plush in his hands, carefully stroking it as he hummed under his breath, his eyes closed.  
Philza had grabbed the plush from the car when he had found it, and he didn’t realise how much it meant to Wilbur, and Fundy too for that matter.  
The man hadn’t let go of it since it was put in his possession, and when he had offered to wash the blood stains off, Wilbur had began bawling.

So nobody else touched it, besides Wilbur.

It was fine by him, Phil didn’t mind. If it helped keep him calm and comfortable, he couldn’t give a shit if he smelt a little bit of blood.

“My injuries weren’t that bad—“

“Techno, son, you were shot. You cannot say ‘it weren’t that bad’, you passed out on the way here. You could of died, you know?” He frowned, thinking back to how scared he had been in those moments, “You’re both fools... My fools, but you are both fools. I’m very relieved you’re both alive, I don’t know what I would of done if I lost you two. I’m so— SO incredibly proud of the two of you.”

That’s what caught Wilbur off guard, he realised, as soon as he said ‘proud’, the man began to tear up, ripping his gaze away from Philza, back to the stuffed pig in his hands.  
Techno’s brows furrowed, sharing a look with Philza.

Phil didn’t know much about the boys’ childhood, but from what he did know, he knew Wilbur hadn’t heard that often— if at all.   
It was an unknown area for the man, and it made sense for him to be caught off guard and scared by those words. Trauma worked in mysterious and unusual ways.

“Wilbur?” His voice became gently, letting go of Techno’s hair as he crawled over to his son, tilting his chin up to look at him, “Come on, Wil, look at me mate...”

Wilbur winced, but he looked up, letting his father cup his face in his warm and scarred hands, pressing his lips gently to his forehead, before holding their foreheads against each others.

“I know you won’t believe me, but one day you will. I am so incredibly proud of you, Wilbur Watson. My beautiful baby boy has grown into a man, with an equally as beautiful son himself! I have never been ashamed of you, I would never be disappointed in you...” gently, he brushed away Wilbur’s tears with his thumb.

“I thought— I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered, and Philza felt his heart shatter at the heartbroken expression on the brunette’s face.

“You silly boy, I could never hate you... Never, ever think that, alright mate? You two boys have done so much for each other and the other boys... I couldn’t be prouder, I really couldn’t,” he pulled Techno in for a forehead kiss too, chuckling at Techno’s flustered face, opening up his arms to wrap him into a loving hug, leaning over to pull Wilbur into it too, being extra careful with him.

“Phil... I... I love you dad,” Techno whispered, clearly embarrassed by his own words.

Philza smiled sweetly, nodding “I know, and I love you too. I love you both. I promise you, we... We will get through this together. We’ve already been through so much. This may be hard, but we three? We’re strong... You boys are so insanely brave.”

His children, his boys, leant into his touch, Wilbur letting out a shaky breath, while Techno just gave him a small smile.

“Are you sure?” Wilbur whispered, “Dad I... I’m so tired of acting like things will be okay... I just want— I just want them to actually be okay already.”

He hummed, nodding in understanding.

It was an... Interesting situation.   
L’manberg would be in danger if the Dream SMP members discovered they were keeping him and the two people that Dream had wanted dead here.  
Tommy was currently with Dream— God knows where and he hated to even think about the piss poor condition Tommy must be in.  
Don’t even get him started again on Tubbo, Ranboo and Fundy.

The youngest were suffering.

Philza did not have a plan.

But he would make one. 

“I know, Wil. Things will be okay, and I realise it fucking sucks that it isn’t okay now, I wish I could fix everything with just— the snap of my fingers... But I can’t mate. That doesn’t mean I won’t try absolutely every possible thing to try and fix things, alright?” Phil rested his hand on top of his own heart.  
“I, Philza Watson, solemnly swear to give it my all to save our darling mischievous little shits!”

Technoblade barked out a laugh, shaking his head, trying to pretend he did not just burst into laughter at Phil’s stupid joke.  
Wilbur just smiled, and Phil assumed he would of been laughing if it didn’t hurt so fucking bad.

Phil forced Techno to sit infront of him again, finishing up brushing through his hair, singing a quiet song as he ran the brush through his pink waves, giving Techno’s head a light bop whenever he moved away too fast.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine—“ he looked to Wilbur, who perked up slightly, listening to his singing all while curling up into bed, his wide brown eyes almost childlike as he watched Phil braid his twins hair.

“You make me happy, when skies are grey...” he took the hairtie from between his teeth, carefully tying up his braid, lightly flicking it over his sons shoulder, before wrapping his arms around him, “You’ll never know dear... How much I love you.”

“Please don’t take... My sunshine away,” Wilbur finished for him, hugging the pig tighter, his face an unreadable expression, but silent tears leaked from his eyes.

Phil understood that pain more than anyone else could.  
The pain of losing a child. It was exactly how he felt when he had woken up to Captain Puffy, and not his own children.  
He would of loved to meet Fundy, he was sure the child was just as chaotic as his father.

He truly hoped Fundy was alright, for his sons sake.

Fundy was acting like a complete fool, zooming in and out of each room, throwing whatever he could get his hands on, screeching as Schlatt chased him, the older man cursing and stumbling, while Fundy screamed in sheer terror and light amusement.

Ranboo patiently sat on the couch, not saying a word as they ran in circles, Fundy’s screams growing louder as Schlatt finally caught up, snatching him up by the waist, before turning him upside down and holding him by the leg.  
He tried not to flinch thinking about the zombies outside hearing the loudness of the two.

“CAUGHT THE LITTLE FUCK!” He laughed pridefully, ignoring Fundy’s hissy fit— in which, the boy was ACTUALLY hissing at him.

Ranboo didn’t want to point out the fact that Fundy was probably uncomfortable with it, and that was definitely not because Schlatt was intimidating.

He was, by the way, incredibly intimidating.

The man had removed his blazer, throwing it over the back of a chair, rolling up his sleeves after putting Fundy down gently on the couch besides Ranboo, smirking, clearly proud of himself.  
Fundy hissed once more, crossing his arms in a fit of baby rage, glaring at him as if he had just committed some awful crime.  
It was funny when kids had tantrums, Ranboo decided, picking up his book and beginning to write.

Schlatt peeked over his shoulder as he wrote, and Ranboo instantly closed the book, glancing up at him, “Can... Can I help you?” He stuttered as he asked.

The man shrugged, crossing his arms, “Yeah, you can actually, but that’s not important right now. Your buddies bitten, you know that right? The face, the shoulder... One on the leg... He’s gonna turn, kid...” he paused, before smiling “Is what I would of said if I didn’t know he was immune.”

Before Ranboo could ask how he knew, Schlatt rolled his eyes, pulling up a chair and falling into it, resting his hands on his knees.

“The twerp’s face is fucked, kid, I could tell that bite is weeks old. You didn’t panic when we found you, you didn’t even bring it up, you didn’t start to cry when I mentioned he was bitten, nor did you get defensive. He’s immune, right? Just like you are.”

He stopped, before adding, “That one is too.”

Glancing down to Ranboo, he raised an eyebrow in confusion. It’d make sense, but how was Schlatt certain?  
He went to ask, but Schlatt shrugged.

“No idea. I was just pretending I knew, I don’t actually have a fucking clue, we could test if you want to find out?”

“No thank you,” Ranboo quickly spoke up.

Schlatt burst into laughter, nodding, muttering something under his breath as he walked into the room over, which Ranboo had briefly seen.

The house they were in was... Very big, surprisingly. One of the hallways had been boarded up, although there were no zombies inside, Schlatt had said there was a way for them to get in so they didn’t use it.  
There were five bedrooms, all of them somewhat big and cosy, one of them had very clearly been a child’s bedroom.  
Tubbo was sleeping currently in the biggest of the rooms with the most space, Henry by his side while Connor was making sure he was hydrated and cosy.

It was the only bedroom without white walls, and Ranboo had a sneaky suspicion he’d appreciate not being in a bright room when he finally woke up.

Whenever that was.

Ranboo and Fundy were going to share a room, since the little boy was still not sure of the two strangers, and Ranboo truthfully had a weird vibe from the both of them.  
Although the sonic onesie was pretty cool.

Both the men, Schlatt and Connor, were a lot nicer than they made themselves out to be. As soon as they got into the house, they immediately offered to take their coats, and although Schlatt had looked disgusted at the guts and gore, he simply said ‘I’ll sort it’.  
Ranboo let him wash his mask too, but once he had taken the mask off, Schlatt had grimaced and he had immediately went to put it back on.

But here he was, sat without it, in clothes too big for him, the sweatpants tied at the waist as to not fall down, the shirt sleeves so large he had the urge to just wack the air with them.  
Fundy was only wearing a shirt, since everything else was dirty, and there wasn’t any clothes there that would fit a five year old. It was like a dress on the kid, reaching his ankles, and Ranboo was surprised he hadn’t tripped over himself yet.

“Your friend will be fine, Tubbo, you said his name was?” Schlatt spoke up while walking in, putting down a jug of water and three cups, giving him a nod to let him know he can help himself.

“Mhm, Yep! Uh... Yep...” Ranboo mumbled, his eyes glued to the floor.

The uncomfortable silence lingered for more than five minutes, to the point that even Schlatt looked bored and uncomfortable, bouncing his leg as he chewed on his lip.  
“Look... Ranboo, I know you’re uncomfortable. Me the fuck too, pal, fuckin’ kids your age freak me the hell out. Something’s fucked in your guys’ brains or something,” Schlatt scratched at his cheek, his mutton chops growing and sort of messy.

“I want to make it clear that the only reason I brought you fuckers here is because one, I know you kids will help me get into L’manberg and two, you would of died out there. You can’t take care of a baby, you’re fuckin’ babies yourself.”

“I’m not a baby! I’m— I’m... I think... I think I’m sixteen! That’s not—“

Schlatt shuddered, “God, you would of got that kid killed in seconds. You didn’t even do anything when he walked right into that zombie, did you, pal? Kids don’t deserve to look after other kids, it’s not your fault, it’s this fucking world.”

Frowning, he silently agreed.   
It hurt his heart to think of how scared Tubbo must of been while holding Fundy before he had found him, hopefully it wasn’t too long.  
Pouring himself a cup of water, he was about to do the same for Schlatt and Fundy, but Schlatt gently grabbed his wrist.

“I’ll pour my own, thanks,” he mumbled, quirking a brow to Fundy, “Water, kid?”

“Juice?”

“No, water you little rat.”

Unsurprisingly, Fundy did indeed want water, gulping it down in the blink of an eye, holding it out again for Schlatt to refil, his eyes wide and bright.  
When was the last time the kid had a drink? It was probably a day or so ago, no wonder he was so thirsty.  
It seemed that Fundy was warming up to the guy, and Ranboo didn’t want to agree... But he also was.

He was scared of him, of course he was.  
There was a lot of stuff he was confused about, who this guy was, why Schlatt knew him but Ranboo couldn’t piece it together.  
Remembering hurt his head.  
But he had a funny personality, and he was very obviously caring and independent.  
If he hadn’t of brought them inside, maybe he would think otherwise, but Schlatt so far seemed like a nice guy.

“Kid? You good?” Schlatt’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Ranboo gulped, tapping his fingers against the glass, letting out a shuddery breath, “Why— Why... How do you know me? I don’t really remember you... My memory issues are bad, but you remember me. So how?”

He tried desperately to keep the fear out of his voice, but it didn’t seem to work very well, watching as Schlatt laughed under his breath, feeling the deep red embarrassment crawling up his neck.

“You remember anything from being kept in a basement?” He asked quietly, his tone a lot more serious now.

Stiffening, Ranboo gently pulled Fundy into his lap, the boy not complaining as he was busy downing another glass of water, he nodded slowly, “Mhm... I-I remember... Not a lot though... It’s mostly patchy. But— But when I try I get really bad headaches. When I talked to P— A friend, he said it sounds similar to... Uh trauma?”

The look on Schlatt’s face almost made him laugh, the guy letting out a ‘yup’ while nodding his head.

“I was pretty much in charge of the Dream SMP community, I ran that place. Or well— Yeah no, I did run that place except I ran it while intoxicated the whole time,” he shrugged, clasping his hands together as he watched Ranboo.  
“I was convinced that we’d eventually find a cure, so me being the idiot I was decided to get people to find immunes and keep them in one place... Not very smart of me, but hey, it worked.”

“You kept us in a basement.” Ranboo deadpanned.

“Yeah. Whatever, anyway, I didn’t really pay much attention to you guys in there, honestly. I left it up to others who were more focused on the cure and shit, I was only really in charge of the place because I wanted to be safe, I couldn’t give less of a crap about anyone who lived there at the time,” he took a long sip of his water, putting the cup down.

“I mostly stayed in my house, getting drunk, doing my own thing. Dream on the other hand... That kid blows my mind to this day.”

Ranboo blinked, “How so?”

“Well first off, something isn’t right in his head, and I mean that in the worst way possible. He’s poured alcohol in my non alcoholic drinks before so I was outta it, just so he could do some more fucked up shit to people, although I never really kept a tally chart of how many crappy things he had done, I just know there was a lot of them... He’s the one who gave you that scar,” pointing to Ranboo’s face, he frowns.

“I wasn’t drunk when I found you a bloody mess. The damage had already been done, not much I could do to fix it.”

Lightly, Ranboo’s fingers grazed over his scar, the phantom pains of the skin being slices peering back up, causing him to flinch back. He instead returned to hugging Fundy, who was staring curiously at Schlatt, his head tilted slightly.  
The older man poured more water for the kid, and Fundy happily drank more.  
How a child could be so amused by just glasses of water? They would never understand.

“Thing’s I think got a little better when Dream became in charge of L’manberg, but he still caused chaos here. Every week he’d stop by for a day or two and just... Fuck everything up. Again, I didn’t really give a shit. People started to take advantage of the immune’s, using you guys as slaves and bullshit. I’m ashamed to say I didn’t stop them,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

“Then when Dream got elected out of being the leader of L’manberg, he returned to our place, The Dream SMP, and just... Made it a whole lot worse. He became addicted to the zombies, treating them as... Friends, instead of monsters. It was fucking crazy, HE was fucking crazy. I left a few days ago, it was all too weird and crap, I couldn’t be fucked to deal with all of it and besides, if Dream wants to kill a shit ton of people, he can do it without me. I’m not gonna have dead mothers and children on my conscience.”

The younger boy could, again, laugh at that.

Sure, he didn’t want dead mothers and children on his conscience!

But he was okay with him being locked in the dark for years?... Gosh, he didn’t even know how long he had been there.

But it was hell.

How could he leave a BABY in there?! Fundy was only little when he was locked in there...  
Why didn’t he protect them too?

Schlatt seemed to realise the sudden change of atmosphere, furrowing his brows, rubbing his neck slowly as he glanced towards the floor, “Look kid I... I’m sorry. I don’t say that often and I’m not gonna say it again, so take it or leave it. I fucked up, I’ll openly admit that, I shoulda’ done more, but I didn’t. My fault.”

“You’re right, it was your fault,” Ranboo’s voice broke, “I— I didn’t have anyone... Where did Sally go?”

Schlatt blinked, “Sally?”

“The— I— The woman with us, she was... She was Fundy’s mom, I think,” he looked down to the kid, who squeaked when hearing the name of his mother, perking up, eyes glistening in excitement.

“Mama here?” He asked, opening up his arms for Schlatt.

Schlatt looked conflicted, but he took the kid into his arms, shaking his head, “Nah, I’m sorry kid. I don’t know where your mom is... But we can try find her, if she isn’t dead—“

“Don’t say that to him! He— he’s a baby!”

“Do I look like someone who’s good with kids?”

Ranboo narrowed his eyes, “Clearly not.”

“The zombies didn’t like mama,” Fundy whispered, his tiny hands grabbing at Schlatt’s shirt, sniffling, “Canya’ fix her?”

The room fell into a deep silence, one that neither of the two could understand, while Fundy just sat with innocent confusion, his face scrunching up as every second of the quiet passed, and Ranboo could tell the older man had no idea what to say to that.  
It was so quiet that it was almost deafening, he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, it was very uncomfortable.

Ranboo really hoped that Sally was alive, he strongly wanted to meet her again, to see her face. Maybe he could draw her, then he’d remember her face!  
Or maybe they could find a Polaroid camera and take a photo together with it, that way he’d never forget it.  
He only seemed to remember somewhat good things about her, so she was probably a good person!

Although nowadays, you couldn’t trust even the nicest of people...

Except Phil, Phil was cool.

Both Schlatt and him went to speak, stopping when they noticed the other opening their mouths.  
Thankfully, the silence didn’t last long, Connor stepping into the room, holding a bowl of puke, a disgusted expression on his face.  
Not to mention he was also covered in it.

“Your friend is awake,” Connor muttered, letting out a heavy sigh, “He... He is very awake. I did not know a child could projectile vomit out of fear until right now, and honestly, the outside world looks very good right now.”

Schlatt pulled a face, pointing to the kitchen, “You fucking idiot, go dump that in the sink and wash your disgusting onesie. You need to get rid of that at some point, Jesus fucking Christ man—“

Ranboo got to his feet, deciding he would leave the pair to argue, making his way ever so quickly to the hallway, stopping in the middle of the doorway to check on Fundy for one last time.  
The little boy was hiding in Schlatt’s chest, hiccuping, and the Schlatt was gently rubbing his back, hopping up to his feet, rocking the boy carefully, holding up his teddy bear and pretending as if it were speaking to him, which Fundy watched.

Maybe Schlatt had kids before, he seemed to make a good father.

If only he was a good person.

Shaking his head, the tall boy made his way up the stairs, ready to go and comfort Tubbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Fundy doesn’t understand what happened to his mom, since Wilbur never really explained what happened... Yes, Fundy was there, but notice that Fundy has MOSTLY blocked it out? That’s the trauma of it!  
> Poor Ranboo will have to face that soon v_v


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Tommy and Dream finally begin to bond.
> 
> CHECK NOTES.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR ABUSE AND MANIPULATION
> 
> THIS IS A VERY IMPORTANT WARNING! PLEASE DO NOT REAL IF MANIPULATION IS A TRIGGER OF YOURS! EVEN I STRUGGLED TO WRITE THIS.  
> STAY SAFE <3 
> 
> DREAM IS A BAD CHARACTER IN THIS.

Only a few hours had passed in the basement since Ponk had visited, and in that time, Sam had told him that he and Ponk were in fact not dating.

He definitely didn’t believe him.

“No, Ponk and I— We’re just friends! We... Met around the start of the Apocalypse. He was very kind to me, he helped Fran when she was sick.”

“Fran was sick?” Tommy blinked, rubbing at his eyes.

There’s a low hum, “Mhm, back at the start of this hectic time. She... She ate some poisoned food. It was my fault entirely, I should of... Well, I just should of kept a closer eye on her,” Sam explained, “I really thought I was about to lose her, but then I met Ponk.”

Tommy felt jokingly sick as Sam’s voice lightened, seeming sort of giddy as he spoke about him. 

“I could of kissed him for saving her. Fran has been with me for- For years! She’s almost eleven now,” he chuckled, “I had a— err— Well... My little brother would of loved her. But uh, life goes on,” he murmured, his voice going quiet as he mumbled something under his breath.

“He left after helping, then we met again, here, a few years ago,” Sam gently pat his head, “We became best friends almost immediately. He’s helped me a lot.”

Or well, maybe they were just in love then. There was absolutely NO way they did not love each other.  
They looked at each other so longingly, it was straight out of a Disney movie, and he would know, he loved Disney, it was painfully obvious to Tommy.  
Like he thought before, everytime he thought of Ponk and Sam, his thoughts drifted to Sally and Wilbur, his heart felt like it was being squeezed as it ached, desperate to see his brother.

If Wilbur were here, he’d beat Dream’s ugly green fuckin’ face.

So would Techno— Even Tubbo! 

Fundy could probably take him too, that kid was so vicious when he wanted to be. One time, he bit his hand so hard it started bleeding and if it wasn’t illegal he would of kicked him straight in the face.

He longed for those memories to become real again.

He had to be strong, he told himself, because he knew his brothers would of been if they were in his shoes.

“Tommy?” Sam said softly, and Tommy almost mistook his voice for Wilbur’s, turning his head slightly to look in his direction.  
He had to physically restrain himself for replying with his brothers name. Fuck, curse Sam for being so kind.

It was a bit difficult, due to the darkness, but he could see the faint outline of his figure, bum shuffling over, reaching his hands out until they touched the older man’s shoulders, relaxing at the knowledge that Sam was right in front of him.

“Are you alright, Tommy?” He asked, his voice soft, quiet as to not alarm him.

Tommy noticed that earlier on.

Sam was always quiet and gentle, soft spoken when he spoke to him, but he was a lot different when speaking to anyone else.  
Although the only other people that came in was some guy with clout glasses, that Tommy recognised as one of the guys that went after Tubbo, George, Ponk and Dream himself.

Sam was... Was a lot like his guardian angel here, honestly.  
He felt so safe just by being next to him.

Clearing his throat, he nodded, then remembered Sam couldn’t really see him, “Oh— Yeah, fuckin’ dandy... Just wanna go home, to be honest, Sam.”

“I know, Tommy, we’ll get you back home, I promise,” Sam’s hand rested on top of his head, ruffling his blond curls gently, and Tommy could imagine his smile.

‘You’

‘We’ll get you back home’

Hesitantly, his hand shook as he rested it on top of Sam’s, wincing, “Are... Are you gonna come with me, when we do get out of here?”

There was a long pause.

“I’ll try, Tommy,” he finally says, chuckling softly, “I’ll try my best... Get some rest, Dream— Dream wants us later. You should get some sleep while you can.”

Tommy didn’t like that response, especially not the long pause before he gave it. It reminded him of his father’s promise to never leave, his father’s... Shitty promise.  
It was bullshit, it was all bullshit.  
But at least Sam didn’t straight up lie to him, instead, he said he’d try.  
Trying... It was better than just lying to him, so maybe he could appreciate it.   
Silently, he curled up slightly, beginning to wind down, not saying a word as he rested his head on Sam’s lap.

Tommy was never usually this clingy, but after everything, touch and comfort was something he craved, so when Sam began to run his fingers through his hair, he was practically purring from joy.  
His breathing relaxed, enjoying the peace and quiet.

The door opened, and Dream’s heavy footsteps began down the steps, Tommy jolting upright and backing up until he was pressed up against the wall, the sudden spike in fear so distracting that he wasn’t even aware that Sam had moved directly in front of him, protecting him from Dream’s line of sight.

“Tommy?” Dream said in a sing song voice, humming as he reached the floor, tapping his foot as he flashed the torch in their direction, “Oh come on, Sam, get out of the way. Me and Tommy have stuff we need to do.”

“I... I thought—“

“You thought wrong. Tommy, come here.”

The younger boy froze up, balling his hands in the back of Sam’s shirt, looking to him with begging and desperate eyes, even if he knew Sam couldn’t do anything to stop him.  
Dream looked pissed, and from what Tommy had already seen of the mad man, he had a feeling if he didn’t obey him, or even made it more difficult for him, it wasn’t Tommy that would suffer the consequences.

Quickly, he scrambled to his feet, his heart shattering as Sam took hold of his hand, his eyes wide as he stared at Tommy.  
He slipped out of his grip, side stepping behind Dream.  
The masked man ruffled his hair, and he shuddered at the touch, ignoring how Sam’s eyes lingered on Dream, keeping his expression as blank as he could.

“I’ll let George and Punz deal with you,” Dream spoke up, before beginning to make his way up the steps, looking over his shoulder at the younger boy.  
“Are you coming?”

It was a rhetorical question, but he nodded anyway, giving Sam one last pitiful look, before quickly scattering, following Dream up the steps.  
His whole body freezing up at the sight of Punz and George pushing past him, going down into the basement.  
He tried to suppress his flinches as the sounds of pained grunts and gasps were stopped by Dream slamming the door shut behind them.

One last “HE’S JUST A KID!” Before it was followed by silence.

Standing in the hallway, Tommy managed to make out that there was only one other room in this hallway, that he assumed to be empty, and then larger stairs going up.   
But it was quiet, muffled talking above.  
Weirdly, he couldn’t hear any of that when he was in the basement room.  
It was just... Complete silence. Nothing to be heard aside from himself and Sam.

Just what kind of place was this?

“I’m sorry you’ve been staying down in that basement, but unfortunately, it’s just the measures for new people... Don’t worry kid, how about we leave a bath running for you, Hm? Then you can have dinner with me. We can be friends, Tommy,” Dream said, and it sounded rather genuine, but Tommy couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face “Don’t you want to be friends?”

“I... I wanna stay with Sam,” he quietly admitted, “Not you, you— you bastard—“

In a blink of a eye, Dream had grasped his face, digging his nails into his skin, his eyes dull and glazed over, as if he wasn’t really there as he stared at him.  
It was almost as if he wasn’t even looking at Tommy, instead, straight through him, the feeling of blood blossoming through the rips in his skin from Dream’s claws beginning to sting.  
When Tommy raised his hand to grab at his wrist, Dream just tightened his grip, causing him to let out a pained gasp.

“Careful what you say to me, Tommy... We’re friends, aren’t we?”

No.

No they weren’t friends.

Dream was a psychopathic murderer, who took the only people, the only things he cared about in this world.  
Now here he was, keeping him hostage. This just wasn’t fair.  
But he nodded anyway, relieved when Dream finally let go of his face, seeming pleased with his response.

If Tommy wanted to get out of this, he had to obey everything that Dream asked of him, even if he didn’t personally agree.

Even if he really didn’t want to.

Deep down, he didn’t understand why he was so desperate to escape.

He didn’t have anyone to return to? 

Nobody was going to miss him if he was killed, or bitten. 

The only family he did have was all gone, all taken and killed, all because Dream was some creep who had been stalking him and wanted him for... Well, he still wasn’t sure.  
Maybe it was because he was never one for giving up...

Wilbur had used to tease him for it, the way he was so independent and dependent all at the same time.  
His brothers always told him how full of determination he was, although whenever he pissed them off they had called him annoyingly persistent.  
That was one of his good traits, he thought.  
At least it was helping now.  
He wasn’t going to give up.

Now, he had something new to strive towards.

If he was going to survive, then he was going to make sure the world knew exactly who Tommy Watson was.

He just had to survive this, find a way out and then him and Sam can escape... Maybe he could make graves for his family. They don’t deserve to rot.

Oh god, he really hoped they hadn’t turned.

“Alright, well, let’s walk, shall we? We’ve got two hours to kill. I may as well show you around the community— Not, that you’ll be spending much time out there. But getting to know people is good, and you can talk as long as someone asks you a question,” if looks could kill, Tommy would already be dead, “Alright, Tommy? Speak when spoken to.”

Tommy nodded.

He frowned when Dream took hold of his wrist, but he assumed he was just meant to follow.  
Keeping his grip as loose as possible, while Dream tightening his grasp on him, yanking him up the stairs and opening the door.  
The light was almost blinding, making him shrink back, feeling ever so small behind Dream as he tried to let himself adjust to the new lighting.

It was an infirmary, he could tell by the smell, and the basket of bloodied clothes outside one of the few doors.  
Furrowing his brows, he glanced back up to Dream, who paid him no attention, the blond man instead staring at someone who entered.

Oh.

Tommy definitely recognised them.

Stood by the door was Sapnap, being dragged into one of the rooms, his eyes catching a glimpse of Tommy and immediately pulling away from the woman leading him.  
“Tommy? Tommy! You’re alive—“

“Ignore him,” Dream said blankly, keeping his expression bare of emotion, shoving Tommy ahead of him, directing him out of the door.

The woman was cursing and yelling at Sapnap now, trying to forcefully drag him into the room, “COME ON YER’ LITTLE CUNT! JUST GET IN THERE—“

“DREAM JUST LET HIM GO— TOMMY, TECHNO—“

Tommy gasped as he was shoved through the double doors, falling to his knees as it slammed closed behind him and Dream, fighting at the mans hands as he was dragged to his feet, not giving him the chance to even stand up as he began to lead him towards another building.  
Sapnap’s bitter yelling growing muffled the further they got away from the infirmary.  
What was he going to say about Techno?

He didn’t have a chance to think about it, suddenly feeling like he was being choked as Dream tightened his grip on his shirt, stumbling to his feet he took a deep shaky breath.

Dream visibly relaxed now that they were away from Sapnap, a calmer smile taking place on his face, looking around.  
“Take a look. This is what L’manberg will never be.”

It...

It was massive.

In fact, it was so much bigger than he thought it would of been.

Clearly, they had expanded it over time, but they had solar power, the panels on the roof evidence of that.  
There were more houses than in L’manberg, and there were... A lot more people too, Tommy even noticed a missing poster of a young boy on one of the windows of the houses, his gaze caught onto it like a trap as he instinctively walked towards it, taking the poster off of the glass and staring at it.   
Dream was behind him in seconds, peering over his shoulder.

“Oh... Foolish,” he said simply, “He’s about as old as your brothers kid... He’s one with the zombie now, so it’s not that big of a deal. Besides, his family are gone too. They’re together, living as the dead. Funny phrase, isn’t it?”

Tommy frowned, “He... He’s just a fuckin’ kid, man,” he whispered, looking up to Dream, “Why didn’t you go look for him?”

The man laughed, wheezing, “Is that a joke, Tommy? He’s a kid, he wouldn’t of survived out there even if I did go try find him when he first disappeared. Not my business, not my problem. It’s not our world anymore, kiddo. It’s theirs.”

Not their world anymore...

Unfortunately, even if he hated it, that was sort of the truth. The zombies had free roam of the world, they had the power and the upper hand in this whole situation, while they had to hide, they had to be secretive and quiet.  
The zombies were the hunters, they were left the prey.  
Dream made sense, even if Tommy despised the fact that he did.  
He placed the poster back up, frowning to himself as he took one last look at it, letting out a deep breath he had been holding for god knows how long.

Tommy’s only just realised whenever he got anxious, he held his breath.  
Maybe it was because his anxiety made him think of the time under the water, with Tubbo.  
Maybe it was because anxiety was a bitch, he didn’t know, he didn’t care.

The major difference between L’manberg and DSMP wasn’t the fact that DSMP was larger and bigger, with more buildings and security, no.  
It was the atmosphere.  
In L’manberg, you instantly could feel safe and at home, it gave off the perfect amount of comforting energy, but also safety and security.  
The longer you stayed there, the more at home you felt. The people were kind and... Well, everyone was like a family to each other.   
Even the ones who didn’t talk much were all family.

While here, the atmosphere was heavy and cold, like someone could cut through the air with a dull knife.   
Nobody spoke as they walked around, carrying things or following others behind. It was easy to tell who were the ‘higher ups’ in the community.

Nobody even glanced their way, and Tommy noticed that as soon as people did, they realised something and instantly looked away.  
Maybe it was the fact that Dream wasn’t wearing his mask, since the man seemed to have worn it everywhere, except now.  
He assumed it was to make Tommy more comfortable, but truthfully, it just made him more anxious.

Dream’s face, now getting a closer look, was pretty fucked up.  
He was clearly blind in one eye, his face all scarred on the left side, a chunk missing from his cheek, very similar to Tubbo, except it didn’t look to be from a bite, and assuming from what Dream had told him, the guy wasn’t immune.  
Possibly a bullet wound, maybe he had been shot in the face, or maybe he shot himself in the face?   
Tommy hoped it was someone else, because that would just be too sad.

Why was he feeling bad for him?

“Stop staring,” Dream snapped, his hand wrapping around the back of his neck, pulling him along as they walked up to a house, opening the door and letting Tommy take a step inside.

It wasn’t an overly large house, but it was nice and clean. Red ripped carpets and some sort of ugly wallpaper that Tommy couldn’t find it in him to care about.  
There were bookshelves that were full to the brim, maps and posters covering the walls of the living room.  
Pillows all over the couches, but his eyes were brought over to two picture frames.

Dream was distracted by some letters, so instead of waiting for him, he silently made his way to the pictures, taking the frames into his hands, inspecting them carefully.  
One of them was of Dream, Sapnap and that other fella, George. They all looked happy, except Sapnap wasn’t as physically close to Dream or George, distancing himself slightly. It had a dark vibe to it...  
The other was a picture of a woman and a younger boy, looking about his age, possibly older.  
The woman looked tired, exhausted even, but happy as she had her arms hooked around the kid, her wild curly hair falling over her shoulders, a bright smile on her face.  
The kid was smiling, but it didn’t meet his eyes at all, freckles dotted all over his cheeks, his hair a curly mess...

Why did he look like... Young Dream?

“My mom never approved of the truth.”

Tommy almost jumped out of his skin, the frame slipping from his fingers, but he managed to catch it before it hit the ground, his eyes wide as he spun around to face Dream, his eyes full of sadness as his eyes latched onto the picture, taking it from Tommy.   
Delicately, Dream touched the glass, furrowing his brows.

“She... She always chose other people over me. Apparently, other kids needed help, or her friends needed help. Puffy never had time for her own child, I was never her duckling,” he admitted, his tone of voice a lot softer than it had previously been.

Tommy felt his heart sink a little at the familiarity, knowing full well he used to feel like that too.  
Sometimes, he used to wish it had just been him and Philza... But that was selfish. 

“I brought her down I think, that must of been why she left. I hear her voice a lot, telling me things... Acting as if she cared.”

He froze up.  
That was...

“I—I have the same thoughts,” Tommy blurted out, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment of his desperation to get it off of his chest, “But— But it’s like... It’s like my fuckin’ dad and shit. Telling me not to give up or whatever. He did, so why couldn’t I?”

“Exactly,” Dream murmured, giving him a sad smile, “Parents suck... How often did you and your dad get to spend time alone?”

As the blond went to respond, he found himself deep in thought, trying to think of the last time Philza had done something just for him.  
The more he thought, the more upset he became. Because he couldn’t remember anything that just him and Phil had done.  
He remembered everything he and his brothers had done, of course.  
That one time Philza and Techno were sword fighting...  
The time Philza and Techno made a snowman...  
The time Philza and Wilbur built a little treehouse together...  
The time Philza and Tubbo found a beehive and collected flowers for Wilbur, who was sick at the time...

“I... I can’t... I don’t think... He— He was still a good dad though,” Tommy quickly defended his delayed response, shrugging his shoulder as he fidgeted with the end of his shirt, “Just busy and stuff, I guess. I don’t need constant attention—“

“Oh, Tommy...” the older man cooed, opening up his arms, “I understand... I feel the same. Puffy was always looking after my friends, after Quackity. You and me are so much more similar than I realised.”

He hadn’t realised that tears were bubbling past his cheeks until he felt the droplets hit his hand, looking from his shaky fingers to Dream in front of him.  
His thoughts were going so fast, screaming at him to stop, screaming at him to calm down, to get away from the bastard.  
But the other side of him was just sad.

Cold.

Alone.

So he stepped into the hug, sniffling as he hid his face in Dream’s chest, his skinny arms wrapping around his torso as he shook with each heavy sob that ripped from his body.  
Dream thread his fingers through the boys hair, shushing him softly as he did so, resting his chin on his head and humming gently to him, swaying slowly as he comforted Tommy.

“It’s alright, Tommy... I’m here now.”

He was scared, and Tommy wasn’t sure if he was shaking because of how upset he was, or if it was because he was in the arms of the man who killed his family.  
Why? Why was he so easily comforted? Why was he so weak—

“Whatever you’re thinking... Stop it...” Dream whispered, “I’ll protect you now, Tommy. Let’s be each other’s family.”

He didn’t say no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one pov this chapter due to it being a very well thought out one.   
> This was hard for me to write, as a manipulation victim, but I am pleased on how it came out.  
> Thank you! ^_^


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Tubbo wakes up and realises that he’s in a house with some strangers, while Philza contemplates... Everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER IS SEAKING OF CULTS AND VIOLENCE.
> 
> If there are any more triggers I haven’t said feel free to comment them and I will add them in!  
> A little bit of a more relaxed chapter, but still including the usual angst.  
> It wouldn’t be a zombie apocalypse without the angst!

Tubbo’s eyelashes fluttered as he blinked awake, cringing at the smell of vomit flooding into his nostrils.

He thought he had already woken up, he remembered puking on someone, although he couldn’t remember if it had been Ranboo or someone else, it wouldn’t of made sense to be someone else.

He was wearing a much larger shirt than he usually was, relieved to find that he wasn’t still covered in guts and dried blood.  
Melting at the sight of a hot water bottle besides him, it was cold now, but he assumed his fever must of made him cold at some point.

Fevers were so confusing.

“You’re awake!” 

Tubbo groaned, raising his hand to his temple, rubbing it gently as he blinked a few times, his vision still not perfect thanks to the fever, but a lot better than usual, furrowing his brows as he made out Ranboo stepping closer to him in the room, sitting right on the edge of his bed, patting his hand gently.  
He was also aware of a wet mark on his cheek, turning his head in annoyance to meet big brown eyes and a lolled out tongue, his heart swelling with joy at the realisation.

“... Henry?” He whispered, reaching his achey arm to pet his head, smiling slightly as the dog whimpered, curling up next to him, resting his snout on his shoulder.

Tubbo had thought the dog would of been killed by those sick bastards, so he was very relieved to discover that, that wasn’t the case.  
He was extremely confused on how the dog had not only survived Dream and his cronies, but also the hoard, but sometimes questions just weren’t meant to be answered.

The taller boy in the room seemed a lot calmer to have him awake, but honestly, Tubbo was feeling too much like shit to be calm.  
His head was still throbbing, the light from the open window burning his eyes slightly, shielding his eyes from the sun, only lowering his hand once Ranboo had gotten to his feet and closed the curtains.

“Mmm...” he mumbled, raising a shaky hand to his head, touching the damp and warm flannel over his forehead, hinting that it had definitely been on his skin a while due to the warmth, “How... How long have I been asleep?”

“Uh.. I believe a few hours, so not too long! Don’t worry, Fundy is... Fundy is just downstairs right now,” Ranboo explained, although not even that made sense.

The silence gave Tubbo a moment to just scan the room he had found himself waking up in, his breath hitching as he looked around, confused by how clean looking it was, how... This was definitely not the place he, Ranboo and Fundy had been staying in.  
Not at all.  
It was different, and he wasn’t sure if he was still suffering from the hallucinations of his fever, but he was pretty sure he could hear people speaking downstairs.

Ranboo realised his confusion, his eyes widening slightly, before glancing towards the door, “Oh— Oh gosh, I forgot to um— We... Fundy was hungry, you see and I couldn’t leave the both of you alone! So I had to bring you both out... Fundy got a little bit upset and some of the dead people— zombies? I guess— came over to us...”

Tubbo stiffened, jolting upright, almost falling right back down, but letting Ranboo steady him by his shoulders, looking at him with wide and concerned eyes.  
“Is— Is Fundy okay?”

“Mhm,” Ranboo nodded enthusiastically, “Two guys came and saved us. That’s— that’s why your fever had calmed down a lot! These guys... Surprisingly, had all the stuff to help. You still need to rest though.”

Tubbo stared, gobsmacked by what Ranboo had just told him, watching as the other shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, avoiding meeting his eyes.

“Why... Why are you sta—“

“You left Fundy with two strangers?!” Tubbo practically screamed, throwing the covers off of him, fighting with them for a brief second before stumbling out of the bed, falling onto the floor with a thud.  
He shoved Ranboo away once he tried to help him up, the fight or flight response kicking in.  
Usually, he would choose flight.

But right now, the protectiveness he felt was much stronger than his fear.

“Tubbo! You- You’re meant to be resting!” Ranboo begged, but didn’t touch him, letting Tubbo get back to his feet himself.

Ignoring him, he began to drag himself towards the door, panting for breath now, the world feeling a lot smaller than it actually was as he managed to open the door, stumbling into the hallway.  
He could hear Fundy screaming, and his heart stopped.  
Tubbo pretty much threw himself down the stairs, letting out a gasp of pain as he landed awkwardly on his ankle, but his mind was racing with horrific thoughts.

Two men.

Two adult men.

Two adult dangerous strangers that were men.

His little nephew—

“FUNDY!” A hoarse scream ripped from Tubbo’s throat as he slammed his shoulder into the living room door, falling through as it opened up, being caught in strong arms.

Glancing up, he shrank in fear as a surprised expression crossed the strangers face, supporting him with one arm as he stared at him.  
He looked equally as nervous as Tubbo, both of them holding a silent staring competition, until Fundy babbled from the corner of the room.  
Looking over, it looked as if Fundy was completely okay, clutching his teddy bear to his chest as he watched curiously, confused by the sudden rise in tension.

“... Kid, you’re meant to be resting—“

“Stop— Stop saying that—“ Tubbo spat, shoving the stranger away from him, but finding himself latching onto his shirt as his legs gave out.  
The man carefully lowered the both of them to the floor, crouching in front of him as he pressed his hand to Tubbo’s forehead, narrowing his eyes.

Ranboo and Henry rushed in behind him, His friend quickly on the floor sat beside him, taking a hand into his as he shared a worried look with him.  
“Tubbo! Please! We— We have time. They’re safe, I— I know him. His name is Schlatt, he’s safe I promise.”

He could tell by Ranboo’s tone of voice that he was not telling the complete truth, and as a bonus to that, the name ‘Schlatt’ sounded suspiciously familiar.  
Tubbo had definitely heard that name before, and the more he thought about it, the more dread began to sink in.

Purpled had spoken about him before, only briefly, mentioning he was the old leader of the DSMP...

DSMP...

Dream.

In a blink of an eye, Tubbo threw himself at Schlatt with as much strength as he could manage, screaming his head off as he hit and punched at Schlatt, trying to ignore the aching pain in his body.

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! WHY DO YOU WANT TOMMY?! WHY DID THEY TAKE TOMMY?! WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!” He screeched, landing a hit in Schlatt’s face, fighting even harder as nicely dressed man managed to grab his wrists, stopping him from hitting any harder.

“CHRIST KID— THE FUCK?! I DON’T HAVE YOUR BROTHER— JESUS— RANBOO GET YOUR FUCKIN’ FRIEND HERE OFF OF ME,” Schlatt yelled, letting Ranboo wrap his slender arms around Tubbo’s waist, pulling him off of him, holding him close and tightly.  
That didn’t stop Tubbo from thrashing about and screeching so hard his throat felt raw and bloody.

As Tubbo went to scream a string of curse words towards him, he was stopped by Fundy rushing over to him, teary eyed and babbling some sort of nonsense that Tubbo couldn’t really make out.  
Fundy grabbed his face, then pulled away, his face devoid of colour, backing up into Schlatt.  
Before bursting into tears and hiding in the adult’s chest.

“TUBBO HURT— TUBBO HURT!”

Schlatt gently pet the kids hair, and Tubbo was insanely confused as to why Fundy was so comfortable with the older man, lightly touching his nose, which he now knew why Fundy had been so freaked out, pulling his fingers away, watching the blood slip through his fingers.  
He had stressed himself out so much that he had caused a nosebleed, perfect.  
Now everything hurt again, his skin felt like it was on fire.  
Ranboo was talking, but Tubbo was struggling to make it out, so hyper focused on the blood on his fingertips and the loud crying from Fundy.

It was so overwhelming.

Why was he crying?

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he let Ranboo wrap his arms around him, something about it making Tubbo feel a lot safer.  
But he wasn’t happy with the way Fundy was so close to this asshole.

“Where— Where’s Tommy?” He whispered, his voice breaking as he asked.  
It was more of a demand for him to tell him, but Schlatt looked unphased, more concerned about Tubbo’s bloody nose, visibly distracted by the young boy pulling on his shirt.

Schlatt sighed, “Look kid, you aren’t in the right state of mind right now. Can we clean your fucking bloody nose first? Then you can ask me all your questions, but I can’t confirm I can answer them.”

Ranboo swallowed loudly beside Tubbo, and honestly he couldn’t even imagine how nervous the other had been while Tubbo had been asleep, his friend was alone with him and some other stranger for longer than he would of wanted them to be.  
Reaching out for Fundy, everything went black for a brief moment, thankfully Ranboo still had a tight grip on him.

“Fine.” He finally gave in, defeated by the worried looks of Ranboo and the demanding tone of voice Schlatt had used.

Schlatt had to carry Tubbo up the stairs. Which, not unexpectedly, he had hated, the kick to Schlatt’s balls once Tubbo had been put on the bed was most definitely not accidental, even if Ranboo had tried to defend him.

He didn’t care. He was pissed off.

Schlatt used to live in the DSMP community, and by the sounds of things, the man had been a tyrant.  
Sure, he had only heard a few things about him...

Well...

Actually he hadn’t heard all that much, just that Purpled didn’t like him much, Dream was the main problem.  
But that didn’t matter, Tubbo still was uncomfortable and disgusted to be under his roof.  
Tubbo could honestly not give less of a shit about why he was not in that community anymore, instead far away in a house with just him and some other.

“I’m gonna pretend I don’t want to wring your scrawny little neck out, because I really do, but I’ll let you ask some questions, since I’m so ki—“

“Where’s Tommy?” Tubbo croaked out again, wincing away at the delicate damp cloth wiping at his bloody nose.

Now the brunette had finally calmed down, the medicine that the other guy, Connor, had given him finally kicking in after another dosage, his headache wasn’t as difficult to manage.  
He could actually sit up without seeing stars, and yell without feeling as if he were about to pass out.  
They had patched up all his previous injuries from Dream and his gang after they had attacked him, and by the looks of things, they had gathered that Tubbo was immune.  
His wounds still were painful, especially since now he had also twisted his ankle. Life just wasn’t having a good time for Tubbo.

He didn’t care, he wasn’t worried.

He could worry about his recovering injuries later.

Tubbo wanted answers.

At least Schlatt seemed nice enough that when he realised Tubbo still wasn’t one hundred percent about the brightness, he had kept the curtains closed.  
He also gave the pair space, leaning against the wall on the complete opposite side of the room, while Tubbo was sat up in the bed, Ranboo beside him, rubbing circles against his back.  
But that didn’t mean Tubbo trusted him, not at all.  
In fact, it made him a little bit more suspicious. Why was he being so nice? Maybe he was a manipulator.

Tubbo hated manipulators.

“Specifically? Not a god damn clue, man. I don’t know what shit Dream has him up to. He’s in the community though, unless Dream killed him back where he planned to attack you all. Which, I’m assuming by the looks of you guys, he did—“ Schlatt smirked, “By the way, you look like dog shit.”

Tubbo went to bite back, but Schlatt held up a hand.

“Shut up. Let me speak, fucking— Jesus Christ, your parents ever teach you manners?” Schlatt raised a brow.

The room was silent.

“Right,” clearing his throat, he continued, “I told Ranboo here, I left the DSMP community a few days ago. Almost a week— nah, definitely a week or so ago. Dream? He’s a fucking psycho. Somethings real messed up in his head, I wasn’t going to stay around and let his stupidity get me killed. I’m surprised he let me leave, Connor too. Pretty sure he planned to do exactly what he did to your family to me and the dumbass I’m now stuck with.”

“You— You know what happened?”

“Kid, I used to be the leader of that community. When I realised a few months ago what Dream had been doing to my fuckin’ drinks, drugging me like a maniac, I decided to just... Fake it till I make it,” he shrugged.  
“Wasn’t the leader anymore, so instead I listened into people’s conversations. Couldn’t give a shit about it all, I mostly kept to myself.”

“One day, the crazed idiot began planning on taking some kid he had been stalking like a fuckin’— weirdo or something,” Schlatt scoffed, “Creepy asshole, weird ass mask... Anyway, that’s not what I was going on about— Then before I left, heard him speaking about attacking a group of people leaving L’manberg. Said something about one of them, which I’m assuming is your pal Tommy since he was the only one taken, being the start. A friend of his.”

Tubbo gave him a sideways glance, suspicious of him. Tommy never spoke about a man named Dream, and if he had, there was no way he wouldn’t of said anything.  
“That’s bullshit, Tommy wouldn’t keep secrets from me. They’re not friends.”

The man looked a bit caught off guard, before bursting into laughter, shaking his head as he smirked.  
“Oh, oh that’s sweet. I forgot people outside the DSMP have a different meaning of friend.”

Tubbo shared a look with Ranboo, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable as he glanced back towards Schlatt, leaning forward a bit more, finding his hand in Ranboo’s.

“What... What do you mean by that?” Ranboo spoke up, gulping.

“Like I’ve said, Dream is fucking off his head. He sees Zombies as... Just another creature, like someone sees dogs— hm, no— No he sees them as just another type of human. He actually likes them more than humans, he’s drawn to them like I was drawn to alcohol.”

As Schlatt chuckled, he clearly didn’t realise the complete terror in Tubbo’s face, because when he finally stopped laughing, he froze, letting out a quiet ‘oh fuck.’  
This bastard was shit at talking to children, huh? Tubbo was probably more of an adult than he was at this rate.

Tubbo let out a shaky breath, “Tommy... Tommy isn’t like that but— But he doesn’t... He... He doesn’t like killing the zombies— He’s not like that sick bastard though! He’s not at all—“

“Dream didn’t start out like that either,” Schlatt stated, his gaze falling to the floor, “He collects people who see the zombies similar to how he sees them. Something in his brain just... Fuckin’ clocks them. He watches people all the god damn time, picks them up out from nowhere. Sometimes, he won’t even kidnap people who feel that way towards zombies. He manages to convince them though.”

He whistled, “He’s good at what he does.”

“How— How can you say that?!” Ranboo yelled, hugging Tubbo close, trying to reassure him.

Tubbo felt sick.

The words ‘He manages to convince them’ bouncing through his head.

Tubbo felt so so sick.

“Dream has this plan, to... Well, get everyone he possibly can to turn. To basically ‘sacrifice themselves for the greater good’! The greater good being those fucking monsters. I hadn’t realised my old home turned into a fuckin’ cult.”

Tubbo’s hands were shaking as he stroked Henry, his bottom lip trembling as his thoughts began to race, terror rising from the pit of his stomach, beads of sweat trailing down his forehead.  
He really thought he was going to throw up again, but Henry clambered over their lap, resting his head on Tubbo’s chest, whining softly and giving his cheek a kiss, which Tubbo let out a shaky breath, wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

“How— How are we— Are— I need to get Tommy back,” Tubbo whispered, tightening his grip on his dogs fur, hiding his face in his neck.  
He couldn’t see Schlatt, but he could hear the man walking over, stiffening at the touch on his shoulder, relieved when the older man quickly removed his hand at the realisation of him being uncomfortable.

Their whole family had been ripped apart and forced to survive on their own.

Tubbo had no idea what kind of pain and torment Tommy was going through, and the more he thought about it, the more he panicked.  
Tommy was always so strong and brave, but sometimes, when he was scared, he was very childish and needed comfort, which Tubbo was the same.  
They were just kids! Why... Why would someone kidnap him?  
This wasn’t fair.

Techno had been bleeding out the last time he saw him, and although he did see the glimpse of him by that van, it still wasn’t comfort.

He definitely could of died in that time they’d been gone.

“Wilbur and Techno... They were saved but... But— but they looked in really bad condition,” Tubbo mumbled, pressing his fists to his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying “Ph— Philza apparently’s alive too... They... They got out but Tommy got kidnapped and— and they don’t even have a clue if me and Fundy are alive! I don’t even know if Wilbur and Techno made it or if I—“

Schlatt groaned, “Look, kid. I’m not one for being a hero, in fact, I couldn’t give less of a shit. But... But I got friends in there and fucking unfortunately, I want them out alive too. If you help us, we can get back to that shit hole of L’manberg, I can give them as much information as possible. They’ll figure something out.”

Tubbo looked up to him, nervously fidgeting with his sleeves, shrinking away from him, letting Ranboo tighten his embrace around him.  
“You— Why do you need our help?”

“They want me dead, first of all,” he blinked, “Not got a clue why. I don’t think they’ll shoot me immediately if I got three kids with me.”

The brunette had a feeling he knew why.

Before he could give him a response, Ranboo interrupted, gently laying Tubbo down, letting Henry come inbetween the two of them.  
He clasped his hands together, clearly nervous, but staying strong for him, which Tubbo found sweet.  
Ranboo was such a nice guy, and Tubbo felt so safe in his presence, even if he didn’t think Ranboo was capable of hurting a fly. 

“We... We need to let Tubbo recover more first. Maybe— maybe a week? I— Goodness, his injuries are bad and Fundy needs rest and he’s also hungry—“

“Do you not swear? I’m so sick and tired of you saying ‘goodness’ and ‘heck’, like come on man, just say fuck.”

Ranboo stared.

This was going to be a long week.

Philza smiled softly to himself, watching as Techno and Wilbur slept, keeping an eye on Wilbur’s chest, just to make sure he was still breathing.  
His injuries were bad, and although he was in the healing process, he couldn’t stop himself from panicking and stressing about whether or not his darling boy would fully recover.

Those injuries were severe.

His body was going to be scarred up for life, being dragged through smashed glass had done a lot of damage to Wilbur’s back.  
The bullet wounds, the scarred writing on his chest...  
Philza shuddered, disgusted and infuriated by just the knowledge that someone had hit that level of insanity to ‘claim’ another human being.

Philza had thought that Zombies were the only monsters he was going to have to deal with, but it seemed that now, Dream was also added onto that list.  
Thinking about what Tommy was probably going through made him feel ill, praying to whatever God out there that his sweet boy didn’t get hurt.  
His poor son...

Tommy was such a brave and intelligent kid, but he was selfless. He wasn’t selfish and cruel, yeah, sometimes he was a little shit. But that young boy was practically made of love.  
He was kind and caring, usually holding hands with Tubbo, being close to Wilbur, play fighting with Techno... Those boys loved each other to the ends of the world and back. 

Closing the door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh.

They couldn’t wait too long to go and save his boys, especially considering how little Fundy was, and that Tubbo and Ranboo were still only children.  
It wasn’t fair on them to have to protect a little boy, nor was it fair on them to be put in such a dangerous world.  
Philza hated that the world had become so fucked— and not for the reasons you think.  
Of course, it sucked bit having any social media or playing video games with his old mates. It sucked not having family...

But what got to him the most, was the fact that there were children having to grow up learning about the world they could never have.  
They’d have to grow up practicing how to use knives and guns.  
How to prepare themselves to run at the sound of a noise, to leave people behind.

How to say goodbye.

It wasn’t fair, and it left Philza feeling stressed and irritated.

He made his way down the stairs, stepping into the kitchen to begin making a cup of coffee, staring at the spoon as he stirred the liquid.  
‘Anxiety was like being in a car, driving around and around in a circle over and over again, completely lost and hyper focusing on the fuel you were most definitely wasting.’  
That’s what his mother had always told him, and he always thought it was so dumb and unimportant.

Oh how wrong he was. 

He definitely should of listened to his mother when she had been giving him tips and tricks to deal with it.  
Because now here he was, holding a cup of coffee so tightly he thought it was going to smash in his hands, standing by the window and watching outside, listening to the rain hit the roof, his eyes narrowed towards the dark clouds above, smothering the sky.  
Sometimes it was nice to appreciate the rain and the beauty of nature, but currently?  
He just felt alone.

Something outside caught him attention, cocking his head slightly to spot the person marching in the rain, not seeming to care about the rain pouring down on their heads.  
It took him a moment, but then he realised who it was, worry lacing his features as he exhaled loudly, placing the mug of coffee that he had previously been needing to drink in order to wake up, before making his way to the front door.

Slipping on his coat and boots, he opened the door, slamming it behind him.

Philza knew exactly where the person was heading, keeping his face blank as he arrived at the gates, stopping in his tracks as he shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head in disappointment.

“What are you doing?” He asked politely.

As Puffy went to put her foot on part of the wall, a bag hoisted over her shoulder and head, she paused.  
Her shoulders were hunched up, looking over to the older man, and Philza frowned worriedly as she hopped back down from halfway up the wall, turning on her heels to face him, looking up to him with burning determination in her eyes.

But the fire faltered, instead, leaving her gazing at him with a soft yet worried expression, kicking the floor lightly, “Philza... You know I have to do this,” she said softly, “I need to—“

“You could die, Puffy,” he used his fatherly tone of voice, the one he used whenever his boys were upset, taking a step towards her and gently placing his hands on her shoulders, giving her a sad smile, “I know... I know you want things to be alright, I can’t— I can’t imagine how much pain you’ve gone through, how much guilt you’re harbouring—“

Philza gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, “But you shouldn’t rush into things, don’t be an idiot. We should really think about this—“

“I have been. I have been ever since we brought Wilbur and Techno back here, and I’ve been thinking about Dream for much longer. The last time I saw him was a bit over a month ago, when I was helping Sapnap and George with something... He...” Puffy let out a soft whimper, squeezing her eyes shut tightly, letting out a breath.

“I need to do this, Phil. I need to make sure, before we do anything, that my baby is really gone. That Dream isn’t my Clay,” her voice became high pitched, breaking as she said ‘her baby’.

Philza once again found himself hoping that he would never ever have to deal with the pain of losing a child.  
He knew it was inevitable, everyone dies, but seeing the way the tears streaked past Puffy’s cheeks made his heart break in a way he didn’t know possible.

“I... I need to know if I can still bring him out of it, I need to try. Not just for him, but for me too. I can’t... I can’t give up on him, that isn’t fair. He will always be my little duckling,” she forced a smile, laughing softly as she wiped away at her tears, it did absolutely nothing thanks to the pouring rain.  
“I know I said— I know I said I didn’t want Dream dead, I know. I should hate him for what he’s become, for what he’s done... But... But I can’t bring myself to. I’ll always love my duckling.”

Philza nodded, understanding, but he brought the shorter woman into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around her, closing his eyes as he held her.  
He had to stop himself from crying at the soft whimpers she let out, gripping at the back of his coat.

“Thank you, Philza. I’m very happy to have met you.”

“Don’t say it like that. I’ll see you again, Captain,” he gave her a smile as he pulled away, “I’d come with you but...”

Puffy grabbed his hand, grinning through her tears, “Be there for them... Don’t ever let go.”

All he did was watch as Puffy began to climb over the wall, giving him one final wave before disappearing over the other side, starting her journey.  
As much as Philza wanted to stop her, to grab her and pull her back, there wasn’t much he really could do.  
She was a mother on a mission, there was nothing he could do to stop that.

Just like there was nothing she could of done to stop him from leaving to find his kids all that time ago. His gaze fell to his prosthetic arm, blinking slowly.  
She had saved his life, she had done so much for him... She didn’t deserve such a horrible thing to happen to her.

Puffy would be okay.

If he kept believing in her, she would be safe. Probably, anyway—

He paused at the loud meow behind him, caught off guard by Enderchest padding over, soaking wet as she sat down in front of him, yowling in protest.  
Philza laughed, shaking his head as he knelt down, letting the cat hop into his arms, unzipping his coat and hiding her inside, tutting quietly.

“You idiot, now you’re dripping wet! Fuck! You are a pain in my ass, Hm? Now let’s get you home. Wilbur is going to need some more cat cuddles, so we gotta get you warm and dry fast, Enderchest.”

As Philza walked home, Puffy strode with pride, determination in her bones to save her darling boy.

To maybe get him to see some sense, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Puffy v_v The bravest mama in the world.
> 
> Join the discord if you haven’t already!   
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Tommy is getting too comfortable, that doesn’t last very long.
> 
> (READ NOTES)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR CHARACTER DEATH, GRAPHIC GORE, ABUSE AND MANIPULATION!
> 
> The trigger warnings are very important for this chapter! This was a difficult one to write v_v

As much as Tommy was scared, shaking even. Terrified of how Dream could change up in seconds, that it would take one bad push for him to just end Tommy’s life...

He couldn’t help but let the man brush his fingers through his hair and softly hum.

He closed his eyes, trying to imagine Dream were someone else, someone who really loved him, someone who comforted him and made him feel safe.

He tried to put Wilbur’s face over Dream’s in his head, imagining another time, and found himself melting even more into the touch, letting the warm flow of tears streak past his cheeks.  
Dream continued to pet his hair, tutting quietly as he pulled away, giving him a genuine smile.

“Let’s run a bath. You smell,” Dream chuckled, ruffling his hair as he motioned for Tommy to follow him, stepping out of the room and into the hallway.

It took him a moment, following after, reflecting on everything that had just happened.  
He was not in the right headspace to take it in right now, he really wasn’t. So he elected to ignore it, saying nothing as he used his sleeves to wipe away his escaping tears, sniffling loudly.

He didn’t want to feel so conflicted and angry with himself, but he really couldn’t help it. Tommy just wanted someone to tell him it would be okay, and right now it was Dream...  
The guy who murdered his family...

Wilbur strummed the guitar, a soft smile playing on his lips as he lounged on his bed, Tommy watching him with big eyes.

“You know, staring doesn’t mean you’re gonna learn,” he chuckled, sitting up a bit more, raising a brow towards him.

Tommy frowned, “Shut the fuck up, I don’t want to learn, dickhead.”

“Uh huh, sure,” Wilbur laughed softly, looking down to the guitar, plucking a string.

He had gulped, moving over and sitting on the bed besides him, slowly resting his head against his shoulder, in which Wilbur blinked in surprise, but leant against him as well.  
“... Would... Would you write a song about me?”

Wilbur smirked, “A song about Gremlin Tommy Innit? Nope. Never.”

“What the fuck!” He frowned, sitting upright, “You’re a bitch. Bitch boy.” 

His brother laughed, a soft and genuine laugh, rolling his eyes, “You’re such a gremlin child. If I ever wrote a song about you, it’d be about how small you are, child.”

“FUCK YOU!” Tommy yelled.

The pair found themselves squabbling for about ten minutes, ending in a tickle fight, which of course Wilbur won because he had been so fucking lanky and tall.

Tommy laid still, resting his hands on his chest, gazing at Wilbur with bright eyes.  
“I know you’re a bitch and everything, but I wanna be like you when I’m older.”

He remembered how Wilbur had froze at that, tears on the brink of escaping, but instead of replying to him, he just smiled softly, ruffling his hair.  
“Go take a bath. You smell.

Dream left him to his own devices after the bathtub was filled, and as Tommy sank into the water, he let out a sigh of relief at the warm liquid encasing him like a blanket, his eyelids fluttering shut.  
It was overwhelmed with bubbles, Dream clearly thought he needed them to get him in the bath, and Tommy would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see them.

Once upon a time, he distantly remembered someone he loved bathing him and playing with the bubbles, although he couldn’t remember them perfectly, but he definitely remembered te little animal crossing toys he had always brought in with him.

He wished he could remember the good memories as much as he craved to.

By the time he was finished with his bath, the water was a dirty grey-brown colour, and Tommy felt disgusted with himself, even though it hadn’t been his fault he was so dirty and covered in dried up blood.  
He owed that all to Dream and the basement, but at least now, the crazed man was treating him like a normal human being.  
At least he wasn’t murdering him, or worse.

Carefully, he quickly rinsed himself off just to make sure the dirt and grime was gone, before towel drying himself, pausing in his actions once he spotted himself in the cracked mirror.  
He could count his ribs, cringing at the sight of his malnourished body. His cheekbones visible and it made him self conscious, tearing away his eyes and rushing to pull his clothes, that Dream had left out for him, on.

It made him feel weird as he pulled on the long sleeved white shirt, which was much too large on him, though he didn’t mind, it just hid his ribs, so he didn’t mind all that too much.  
The jeans were slightly too big, but thankfully, Dream had realised, leaving him a belt behind.  
He pulled on his usual shoes and socks, taking one final look in the mirror.

At least he looked a little brighter?

Not really.

Shakily he rested his palm on the door handle, cracking it open, but before he could step outside of the bathroom, he caught the sound of two voices down the hallway, one of them sounding a lot more upset, the other one completely calm.

He peeked his head out, just to see one of the men that had chased Tubbo and Techno.  
Thinking back, he remembered that his name was George.  
He definitely looked like a George, he thought to himself as he watched him shift uncomfortable side to side.  
The goggles weren’t on his face, instead, resting on his head, no guns, but a knife sheathed to his side.  
His mismatched blue and brown eyes seemed to be... dull. Not a glint of life in them as he stared.

Dream had his mask on, keeping a prideful stance.

“I... I don’t think we should do this, Dream,” he spoke plainly, his voice soft, yet emotionless, clearly not knowing how to speak his thoughts, “It’s not right. He’s our friend—“

“Punishment goes for everyone, I can’t just exempt him from it, George—“

“What about when I was exempt?”

There’s a thick uncomfortable silence, and It made Tommy shudder, watching as Dream continued to stare presumably at him, as if challenging him to go on.  
The other got the hint, hanging his head and rubbing his wrists, gulping he met Dream’s mask.  
He wasn’t surprised that George seemed to be uncomfortable. It was creepy, weird. The mask gave him just completely bad vibes.

“Can’t you ask Punz to do it?”

It’s followed by more silence.

“... Dream?”

George’s voice was almost silent now, with Tommy having to strain to hear it, the sound of light footsteps.  
Everything moved fast and sudden as Dream slammed his fist into the brunette’s face, watching in shock as George collapsed to the floor, sitting in surprise from the sudden hit.

Raising fingertips to his cheek, he flinched, returning his gaze up to Dream, who then crouched down, removing his mask quickly and putting it down beside him.  
Tommy took mental notes that as soon as Dream had removed his mask, George looked away instantly.

Cupping his face, Dream began to hum sadly, brushing his hair out of his face, picking the goggles up off of the floor, “I’m sorry, Georgie... I shouldn’t of done that.”

“You’ve never hit me before,” George’s voice was hushed, not meeting his eyes, catching sight of Tommy from down the hallway.

Dream followed his eyeline, looking to Tommy, quirking an eyebrow as he got back to his feet, helping George up.  
Silently, he slipped the man’s goggles back onto his face, caressing his cheek for the briefest of moments.  
It felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment as George seemed to melt at the touch, raising his hand to rest it against Dream’s.  
But he didn’t speak again.

Instead, as soon as Dream pulled away, so did he, leaving the room just as fast as he had been punched, closing the door behind him.  
Tommy held his breath until he felt the click, turning to Dream and expecting him to begin screaming, to hit him, to throw things and shoot him.

To torture him like he had done to Wilbur—

‘DAD!’ Wilbur’s hoarse voice cried out, ‘PLEASE—‘

“Tommy.”

He was jumpy, even more jumpy after he had just zoned out, nervously looking to the now re-masked man, who was motioning for him to come closer.  
Tommy studied Dream’s body language for a moment, and though he had never been good at that, he found it impossible to understand how the creep was feeling at that moment.  
He was usually okay at it, he could get the gist of someone’s emotions by studying someone’s language, Wilbur and Philza had helped him learn that.

But Dream was impossible to read.

Silently, he stepped over, letting Dream take his face into his hands, probably inspecting him.

Tilting his head, he let out a sigh, brushing his fingers through Tommy’s hair, “You should probably get a hair cut soon, Hm?... I’m sure Minx wouldn’t mind—“

“I-I wanna keep it like this,” Tommy stammered, fidgeting nervously, looking down to his fingers.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but keeping his hair this length reminded him of Techno and Philza.

His hair at the moment was the same length that Philza’s had been before he... Left. It was soft, when washed, and blonde, just like his.

Maybe he’d grow it out to Techno’s length. 

He was always so jealous of how much attention that his hair got him from his brothers, always braiding and playing with it.  
Although it wasn’t that fun to take care of, it was actually a lot of effort to keep neat and tidy.  
He only knew this because Techno would usually wake up with it being a rats nest, having to brush it out of its tangles. Tommy would tease him a lot, but honestly, he was amazed by how beautiful his hair was.

Tommy found his heart hurting at the fact he was never able to tell him.

Dream looked to contemplate this, before shrugging, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze, “I don’t think so, but maybe for a little while you can keep it! After all, you’re new here.”

“I don’t want to cut it at all—“

“Oh come on now,” the masked man shook his head, his grip tightening, no longer gentle and comforting, “Don’t be stupid, Tommy.”

“Okay,” Tommy whispered, “But I’m not letting you do it. You’d probably fuckin’ make it look shit.”

Like he had repeatedly told himself...  
Just agree with everything...

You’d be okay...

Dream clapped his hands together, lifting his mask off of his face and giving Tommy a kind smile, chuckling, “There we go! Now that’s the Tommy I know.”

Dream didn’t know Tommy.  
This bitch was a complete stranger, although they had known each other for a bit now, it was barely anything.  
Sure, he knew Dream had mommy issues, but that didn’t mean he knew him!  
That wasn’t how friendships worked, or how anything worked, actually.  
He was fucking terrified of him.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, wrapping his arms around himself, looking to the spot that George had been in, “What— What were you two fighting about?”

The man’s expression shifted, his eyes darting to the empty spot, returning his gaze to Tommy and frowning, pinching his brows together, “Oh. George. You heard us?” He asked.

Tommy had a feeling he fucked up, but he nodded anyway.

“George... George needs a little bit of pushing, sometimes. He’s my best friend, but sometimes he questions my judgement... Of course, I understand, I’m always here to help him see a little clearer,” he gave Tommy a sickening sweet smile, “You understand, right? Not everyone sees the zombies the same way we do... Unfortunately, as much as I love George, he isn’t at our stage— yet.”

“Yeah,” Tommy looked back to Dream, even more anxious and beginning to play with the edges of his shirt, “Yeah you’re uh— You’re right, I suppose.”

If Dream could tell he was bullshitting, he said nothing about it, instead, just smiling at him, raising a hand to ruffle his hair.  
Tommy flinched, but Dream didn’t apologise for making him uncomfortable, instead, resting a palm against his upper back.  
Gently, he pushed him towards the door, whistling as they walked out, the man not paying any attention to anyone other than Tommy.

“We have somewhere to be now,” Dream looked at his wrist, where a watch sat, nodding, “Oh dear. We’re going to be a few minutes late, but I’m sure it won’t be that big of a deal. They can wait.”

Frowning, Tommy wrapped his arms around himself, a new found source of comfort for himself, “What— What are we late for, Dream?”

“You’ll see,” he grinned, a lot quicker on his feet now, excited for a reason that Tommy didn’t know, but his fear of the unknown was justified.  
After all, he was still so confused and lost.

Dream had led him into an abandoned factory.  
It was about a fifteen minute walk, and yet it was still connected safely to the DSMP. This place, the more he walked around, just seemed to keep getting bigger and bigger.  
It was like the Tardis from that hit series Doctor Who. He used to watch that when the world was normal, with his mum.  
He had so many nightmares about the Daleks, they were fucking creepy and shit.  
Though, they weren’t as scary as the weeping angels.

Yikes.

The factory wasn’t as big as usual factories were, it was pretty small compared to that one chocolate factory he had visited on a school trip.  
It was... Freezing though. Tommy found himself shivering, walking a lot closer to Dream instinctively, not complaining as his arm was wrapped around his shoulder, quickly replaced by a scarf.

The steps were made of metal, and as they walked up the side stairs, he looked down to see a few people talking and fidgeting nervously, looking up to Dream and him, looking away at the sight of the mask.

Maybe it was a rule not to look at him? What a fucking weirdo.

Dream said nothing as he walked, his head held high and his shoulders back, his hand tight now on Tommy’s shoulder, and there was nothing he could do about it, so Tommy just let him.  
Watching, he noticed a few of the people that were downstairs began to go around the edges of the large room, almost tripping due to how focused he was on the steps, ignoring the quiet scold from Dream. 

Every noise was echoed slightly, the factory mostly empty, it was so cold and scary, it reminded him of every horror movie ever.

Tommy reached the top of the L shaped metal stairs, looking down the path that the stairs had been connected to. It oversaw the whole room, and there were only two or three people on the path altogether.  
Dream didn’t seem to mind, leaning against the railings and looking down as more people flooded in, staying completely silent.

It was honestly anxiety inducing, he couldn’t help himself from tapping his fingers against his leg and tapping his foot, only stopping when Dream flashed him another warning glance, only to fidget with his shirt instead.  
The windows that were plastered around the walls were smashed or broken, the floors a dark dirty grey, with splotches of stains that quite frankly, if Tommy knew what they were, he would probably throw up.

The main entrance doors were shut, and Tommy looked around at the... Thirty? Fourty? People, all with their eyes glued to the ground, not uttering a single word.  
It was as if they were all being mind controlled, like robots.  
They did whatever they were told, and if they weren’t told to do anything, they did just that: absolutely fuck all.

“Welcome everyone!” Dream cried out loudly, not having to yell, “Awe, look at us! All together like a big happy family.”

Tommy felt something crawl up his back, something similar to dread, stepping back slightly, not wanting to be so close to the edge, but stopped by Ponk, who gave him a pitiful expression.  
Glancing around, the blond couldn’t see Sam, and the panic building up in him was growing more and more overwhelming by the second.

‘Where’s Sam?’ He mouthed.

Ponk shook his head.

What the fuck did that mean?

Sam was one of the only people he genuinely felt safe around, that could comfort him even when he was on the brink of passing out from panic attacks.  
He was... So comforting, so safe and extremely familiar for some reason.  
He had no idea why, but he was so so familiar.  
It didn’t matter, they were friends now. Maybe he knew someone who looked like him before all of this.

“As you know, we’ve had some new people from L’manberg come in! In fact, a lot of you were from L’manberg. But of course, this place is much safer from that shithole... Here, we have the right resources to keep you all safe, as long as we keep working together, that is,” Dream sighed, rubbing his neck.  
“But unfortunately, we’ve had a little bit of a... Problem.”

Tommy blinked, wincing as Dream shoved past him, hopping down the stairs until he got right to the bottom, standing in the middle of the room, the people semi circled around him.  
He hadn’t even noticed the door behind Dream, fixated on how not a single person looked his way. 

How in control was he of this place? 

“It seems that some of you have forgotten who’s in control here. Someone has been talking about leaving, which... Well, we’re a family, so you shouldn’t have to want to leave, right?” His tone of voice was now dangerous, cold, “And then another person...”

Chuckling, he turned his head towards the door behind him, “Just bring them out already.”

The doors were thrown open, and two people were being dragged in.

One of them thrashing about, snapping and trying to escape Punz’ arms, while the other stayed completely still, being dragged in by George, who wasn’t being gentle about it, the mans shirt raising up as his back scratched against the hard cold floor.  
It took him a moment to recognise the quiet one as Karl, one of the people from L’manberg. He was nice to Tommy, to everyone even.  
The amount of times that he had tried to start a karaoke night back in L’manberg was hilarious, so seeing him so quiet was quite jarring.

Karl was forced on his knees, his arms being held behind his back by George, gripping his hair in his fists, forcing the brunette to look up.  
The same was done with the other man.

“KARL!” Sapnap’s voice piped up from the crowd, but before he could run over, arms wrapped around him, holding him back, “DREAM, WHAT THE HELL!”

Dream didn’t look at him, not a single care in the world as Sapnap began yelling, his fingers grazing the edge of the sheathed knife.

While the masked man was beginning to talk about the other guy, Tommy turned his head to Ponk, terror in his eyes.  
He gulped when he recognised the same fear in Ponk’s eyes.

Ponk’s grip on his shoulders loosened, but was still there, leaning in to whisper, “Tommy... I—I can’t take you away. But you may want to look away.”

He wanted to, of course he did, but he couldn’t.  
The fear was too intense, his curiosity piqued by the situation unfolding in front of him.

That intrigued curiosity disappeared rather quickly.  
Watching in pure terror as Dream slipped out his blade, lightly touching it with his finger, partly lifting his mask to lick off the blood as he accidentally slit his skin, crouching in front of the infuriated man, tilting his head.

“Any last words—“

The man spat in his mask, growling, “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY! THE ZOMBIES AREN’T OUR DAMN FRIENDS, ARE YOU INSANE?! L’MANBERG IS THE SAFE—“

In a flash, the blade was drawn across the stranger’s neck, blood spurting across the leader’s white mask, yet he didn’t even flinch, instead, watching as the blood ran from the mans wound, raising a hand to his face, laughing maniacally.  
The man twitched and gagged, trying to speak, unable to get the words out, before dropping limp.

Tommy’s fight or flight kicked in, stepping back just to be met with two other people, Ponk unable to be as kind with him as he had previously had been.

He almost threw up, his pulse throbbing inside of his head as he backed up, just to be held in place, nails digging into his shoulder blades, having to bite down hard on his tongue just to stop himself from crying out.

There was no way out.

He was trapped with a fucking psycho.

“NOW! As much as I wish that was the only punishment I had to give, it’s not. Lucky for him, he can join our beloved zombies. Maybe he’ll do a better job being dead than alive,” wiping the blade on his shirt, he turned his attention towards Karl, who let out a shaky breath.

Karl didn’t look too afraid, trying to stay brave, which Tommy had a feeling he only was thanks to Sapnap in the crowd, who was growing more and more stressed by the second.

Instead, Karl slapped on a small smile, looking up to him, “Dream... You’re not in control of me. You know this won’t last, right? It’s honked up.”

“You’re in no position to talk—“

“What about George? You’re going to force him to do this? Don’t you care about him—“

Dream punched him, hard, a cracking noise making Tommy shudder.

Karl started coughing, blood streaming from his nose, his face contorted in pain, “You— You aren’t a psychopath, you just need help, Dream. Puffy—“

There’s another cracking sound, Tommy squeezing his eyes shut as Karl let out a pained cry.  
Sapnap began yelling even harder.

“CLAY PLEASE!” He cried, “KARL DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! KARL DIDN’T—“

“This is a punishment for you too, Sapnap,” Dream was monotone, “Don’t you ever call me by that name again. Don’t ever say HER name again. You, Sapnap and Quackity... You three cause me the most problems. Did I ever tell you that Quackity tried to get me killed, Hm?”

Karl hesitated, opening his mouth to speak, but hushed by Dream’s raised hand.

“He cornered me, began yelling at me like he was crazy. So I grabbed his arm and shoved it into a zombie’s mouth. I held it there for so long, just... Watching him writhe and scream. It was exciting, energising... Unfortunately, he survived.”

Oh...

“I don’t know how he did survive, honestly. Maybe I’ll have to bring both their medics over from there, they might be more useful here.”

So that’s why Quackity had his arm amputated? Why— why didn’t he tell Sapnap and Karl that? Why didn’t he tell anyone that?  
That must of been

Terrifying.

“What?...” Karl breathed out, his brows punched, “Why would you— But— That’s honked up— that’s messed up, Dream! What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Dream shrugged, crouching beside the now dead man, touching the blood lightly, squishing some of it in between his fingers, glancing over his shoulder towards Karl, “Everyone will eventually become zombies, there’s no way to avoid it. So technically, I was doing him a favour. Now, I’ll do myself a favour and get rid of you.”

The blond gagged as he sliced open the dead man’s stomach, trying to writhe and get out of the two men’s grip, one of their hands coming up to Tommy’s face, forcing his eyes open.  
Now, he knew he was sobbing, kicking his legs and trying to escape with all his might.  
Dream didn’t seem phased as he cupped the blood gushing out of the corpse in his hands, wiping it over Karl’s face and head.

The smile taunting him.

Karl was shaking, yet he said nothing, hanging his head in disgust, and he honestly didn’t want to think about how warm and scary it was.  
They removed his shirt, and after a few minutes, Karl was practically soaked in blood, twitching and breathing heavily now, the panic seeping in.

“Karl... Tell me, you have one last chance... Who’s your leader, Hm?” Dream whispered, Tommy had to strain to hear it.

“KARL!” 

Karl looked to have a newfound hatred, his eyes glistening with hope, “I have no leader. The only people that can lead me are Sapnap and Quackity. You mean nothing to me. I’m not scared of you.”

“KARL STOP IT!” Sapnap’s voice broke, breaking through the crowd and running over, shoving Dream to the floor as he cupped Karl’s face in his hands, shushing him lovingly.  
“Oh baby— Karl, I’m so—“

“Shh, shh,” Karl softly shushed him, leaning into the gentle touch, giving him a nervous smile, watching silently as Sapnap began to sob, “It’s okay! I’ll be okay, trust me—“

They pressed their lips together, Sapnap holding his face gently, not giving a single thought to the blood all over him.  
That didn’t matter, and in a way, it was truly romantic.

Sapnap was shoved to the floor, Dream stomping on his chest, his mask off of his face now, exposing his burning rage in his eyes, blade pointed directly towards him.  
Running his fingers through his hair, Dream laughed, shaking his head.  
“You— Sapnap, you fucked up. You royally fucked up.”

He pointed towards the back door, “Punz, George, take him out the back.”

George visibly deflated, and though Tommy couldn’t see his eyes, he had a feeling his weren’t the only ones that were teary.  
While George hesitated, Punz did not, grabbing Karl by his neck, yanking him out towards the back exit. George helping by dragging him by his arms.

“I LOVE YOU SAPNAP! TELL ALEX—“ he gagged as Punz tightened his grip.

Sapnap desperately tried to get up, tears streaming past his face as he yelled back, “KARL!” His voice broke, his legs shaking as he collapsed to his knees, watching as the door shut behind them, locking.

The room was left in silence, aside from Sapnap’s broken sobs and Tommy’s quiet sniffling.

Dream delivered a roundhouse kick to Sapnap’s back, slamming his foot into the back of his neck as he pinned him to the ground, crouching beside him, but keeping him pinned, holding a finger up.

Muffled screaming was heard outside.

The type of screaming you’d hear in horror movies, the kind that left a pit in your stomach.  
That gave you a sudden spike of anxiety.

Tommy had never seen someone look so hurt, so pained, not even Wilbur had let out that horrific of a scream that Sapnap did, twitching and squirming on the floor, wailing loudly as he raised his hands up to his face.  
Dream let him curl up into a ball, a worried expression crossing his face, shushing him softly as he brought Sapnap into his arms, wrapping around him gently.

“Oh Sapnap... It’s alright... Shhh... I’m here, Dream’s here, Sapnap...” he murmured, a tiny smile on his face.

“You’re safe with me.”

It didn’t take long for Dream to start kicking the everloving shit out of Sapnap until he laid in a puddle of his own blood, not saying a word, instead, holding Dream’s hand shakily, whispering out apologies every few seconds.

The room was empty, aside from the two down on the floor, Ponk and a woman, who he recognised as the medic person.

Tommy threw up then, choking on his puke as he held his stomach, his whole body shaking.  
His legs felt light, like he wasn’t actually moving or doing anything really. It all felt so weird and wrong.

This was fucked.

This was so fucked up.

“Tommy?... Come here please...”

Tommy didn’t want to, everything in him was telling him to get up and run, to bolt. If he went to that fucking psycho right now, he’d be beaten or killed or hurt or something—  
But his legs moved before he had even realised he was, taking slow and careful steps towards him, stopping a few feet in front of him.

Smiling, “Oh Toms... That must of been so scary, huh?”

Tommy choked out a sob, nodding, balling his hands as he pressed them to his face, his knees buckling, thankfully- no not thankfully- Dream caught him, lovingly pulling him into his embrace, running his bloody fingers through his hair.  
Humming, Dream rest his chin on top of Tommy’s head, sighing softly.

“Oh Tommy... You know now what not to do, don’t you?” He whispered.

Tommy nodded again, unable to find his voice.

“Never betray me, alright? Always listen to me...” he murmured, pulling away slightly, “Do you know why we’re so close? So similar?”

He shook his head.

He didn’t want to know.

But Dream was going to tell him anyway, and by the looks of how Dream began to smile, it wasn’t good whatever it was.  
He pressed Tommy closer to his chest, pretending as if the crying limp Sapnap just wasn’t there.

“Tommy... We’re so similar because we’re brothers. You’re my little brother, Tommy.”

He passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear... Now this is going to get confusing for you readers ^_^ I wonder what you think...


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Trust is earned, not given. Tubbo knows that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR TALK OF CHILD DEATH AND BRIEFLY MENTIONED ALCHOLISM!
> 
> Bit of a shorter chapter this one, gotta feed the fluff and angst for today!  
> Sorry for the day late chapter, Tommy’s stream last night... yeah v_v
> 
> JOIN OUR DISCORD FOR UPDATES AND THEORIES!   
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

“Are you okay in there kiddo?”

Tubbo jumped slightly, dropping the roll of bandages as he seethed, clutching at his hip, gritting his teeth.

He had been with these people for three days now, so it had been about... A week... More? Probably more since he was shot with that stupid crossbow.  
Honestly, he wasn’t too sure, but it didn’t matter, he was now stuck with these freaks until he was better.  
And on that note, his injury still hadn’t healed, and he wasn’t sure if he trusted Schlatt or Connor enough to help.

All of his other injuries were healing well, but his hip just wasn’t.  
The skin around the injury red and sore, burning to the touch.  
His fever had died down almost completely, he did have spikes of sudden pain in his head, like a migraine was beginning to settle in, but it just wasn’t coming, but asides from that, he was fever-free.

He crouched down slightly, before gasping in pain, slipping in the tiles, grunting in pain as he whacks his head against the toilet seat.  
Tubbo laid on the floor for a moment, taking a deep breath just to stop himself from screaming out in rage just from how overwhelmed he felt.

Before he could even tell Schlatt that he was fine, the door clicked open, the man peeking in and staring at him for a solid minute.  
He felt rather small at that moment, sending a glare his way as he carefully sat himself up, covering his hip wound, looking away from Schlatt.

“Get out.”

“You hit your head when you fall?” The man sighed, closing the door behind him and crouching down beside Tubbo, tilting his head slightly as he brushed his brown hair out of his face.

He whacked his hand away, “Don’t touch me!”

“I just need to know if you hit your head, kid. You’re already fucked up, and if you wanna go back home you’re gonna have to be in ‘tip top’ condition, so let me have a look at you, alright?” He snapped, his voice stern, which surprisingly, made Tubbo not feel as nervous as he thought it would make him.

Slowly, he lifted his head slightly, locking him dead in the eyes as Schlatt carefully brushed his hair out of his face, eyeing the bruise developing on his head as he held his face in his hands.  
He watched as Schlatt furrowed his brows slightly, turning his attention to the first aid kit on the floor, noticing, but not saying anything about Tubbo’s hand covering his hip.  
Tubbo watches as he brought out a cloth, standing up to soak it in the sink, before crouching back down in front of him, lightly holding it against his forehead.

Schlatt sighed, “You haven’t given yourself a fucking concussion, but Jesus Christ, be more careful next time,” he muttered, tutting quietly.

“There... All better, Hm?”

Scrunching his face up, Tubbo wanted to tell him to fuck off, his heart hurting upon realisation he was behaving exactly like Tommy.

He frowned as Schlatt’s touch was gentle and careful, avoiding being too close, but also trying to make sure he properly tended to his wounds.  
It made him think about whether had done this before or not, to patch a kid up.

He took a deep breath, “Did you— Did you have... kids?”

Schlatt froze as he searched in the first aid kit, halting his movements, thinking for a moment, before sighing, shrugging his shoulder.  
“I’ll tell you the story if you let me look at your hip— In a non pedophilic way,” he snorted, rolling his eyes as he smirked.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, but removed his hand anyway, watching as Schlatt hissed at the sight of it, narrowing his eyes.  
But he began to lightly dab at it with some cotton, letting the brunette watch quietly as Schlatt began to talk.

“I was a teenager when I had my first kid,” he started, speaking quietly, “He was... A little shit, honestly, but he was my little shit. My parents weren’t happy, nobody was really, I ended up having to move out with a mate, and well— It wasn’t too bad.”

Tubbo flinched when he pressed down slightly, nodding at his apologies.

“I was sixteen when I had him... I was twenty one when he died. Uh— a friend— I actually never considered him a fucking friend, he was a piece of shit,” he muttered, his brows furrowed in anger, “He was driving recklessly and fucking crashed. I... I lost them both that day.”

He didn’t expect that.

Tubbo was expecting some sap story about throwing him in a foster home or nothing.

Not...

Not this.

Schlatt began to wrap Tubbo’s wound, falling quiet as he did so, his hair falling in his eyes and his sleeves rolled up, not seeming to give a damn about the blood from the wound, thankfully it wasn’t too much though.

He paused for a moment, wondering how exactly to respond, or if he even should respond, it began to sink in, why Schlatt seemed so comfortable with Fundy, so gentle and teasing with the little boy.  
He was the same age Schlatt’s son would of been.  
Tubbo felt sort of bad for being so cruel to him, but he stayed silent, waiting until Schlatt was done wrapping his injuries.

“There, now don’t go fucking pushing yourself, kid,” he huffed, “I don’t wanna have to patch you up again—“

“Is that why you became an alcoholic?” The question slipped from his mouth before he could stop himself, his eyes widening at the bluntness from himself, shutting his mouth tightly into a thin line, wincing.

Schlatt looked equally as surprised, blinking, looking to his hands, before laughing, “... You’re a funny kid,” was all he said, standing up, “You need me to carry you to bed?”

Tubbo frowned, about to protest, before squeaking in pain, his cheeks flushing, embarrassed, as he nodded.  
The older man was careful as he put one of his arms around his neck, helping him to not put too much pressure on himself, helping him walk back into the bedroom, sitting him down on the edge of the bed and stepping back.

Right on cue, Fundy’s crying came from another room, and both Schlatt and Tubbo looked towards the door.

“... Can... Can you go comfort him? You can bring him here after...” Tubbo spoke nervously, fidgeting with his sleeve.

Schlatt nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “... Yeah. Yeah I’ll do that. You fucking kids make me do everything, huh?”  
But he left anyway, and Tubbo smiled to himself as he heard Fundy’s crying go silent.

As much as Tubbo wasn’t sure whether he wanted to trust him or not, something told him deep down, that he wasn’t as bad as he wanted to believe he was.  
Which, was difficult, because Tubbo had already decided he was untrustworthy... But Schlatt had only been kind to him so far, even if he was also an asshole mixed into it a little.  
They both wanted to go to L’manberg, and both wanted Dream to get fucked so...

So maybe it was a good thing they could work together.

Then, when Schlatt and Connor help him save his Tommy, then he will decide whether or not he is a trustworthy person.

Wordlessly, Tubbo raised his hand to his cheek, touching the edges of the scarring and wincing slightly.  
He was glad that he and Tommy hadn’t had an arguement before they were separated.

“Tommy—“ Tubbo had gasped out, grabbing his best friends wrist, trying to ignore the shaking.

“Tubzo, go, Wilbur isn’t doing good I gotta make sure he’s okay. It’s better if we split, I’ll stay safe,” Tommy had promised, quickly hugging Tubbo, his long arms wrapping around him.

For that moment, Tubbo had felt indestructible, until he was ripped away, pulled by Technoblade, watching as Tommy fell to his knees beside Wilbur.

Tubbo shuddered, hissing in pain as a tear fell past his cheek, into the scarred injury.  
As much as it was mostly scarred over, it still hurt often, and he had a feeling it would permanently hurt.  
He hadn’t met anyone else who had been bitten and left with a scar though, so he assumed he probably wouldn’t find out if that were true or not for a long time.

It hurt, his cheek hurt.

His heart hurt.

He hadn’t even fully registered the fact that his father was actually alive, that he survived being bitten, being in a room full of zombies.  
The brunette wasn’t sure if he would believe it until they saw each other again.

If just made no sense, how? How was he alive? Why didn’t he come back to them sooner?...

Was Tommy gonna be able to see him again?

Silently, he pulled one of his knees up to his chest, resting his head against it as he let the tears flow naturally, keeping his eyes open as he looked out the window.  
He wondered if Tommy would like Schlatt and Connor.  
The blond probably would, both him and Schlatt have similar personalities. Loud and abrasive assholes, except Schlatt was a lot more tame than Tommy, which was saying something.

“Tubbo?”

His eyes wandered over to the door, spotting Ranboo who was looking at him with worried eyes, his hands clasped together.  
His shoulders stiffened at the sight of the streaks past his cheeks, and he let out a soft ‘oh...’

Without a second thought, Ranboo carefully climbed into the bed, opening his arms up for Tubbo to crawl into, which he gratefully did, letting out a hiccup cry as he settled down in his embrace.

“I’m— I’m scared, Tommy,” he whispered.

He didn’t realise he called Ranboo Tommy, but the lanky teenager didn’t correct him either, hugging him tighter.

“I— I know, Tubbo... I’m sorry,” he replied, letting him cry into his shoulder.

“So much has happened— Dad’s alive— I don’t even know if Techno and Wilbur are— Tommy’s stuck with some crazy person— and I’m... I... I just wanna go home. I don’t wanna be here anymore, I wanna go home, I just wanna go home,” he whined, balling his fists into Ranboo’s shirt, not caring how childlike he seemed.

Letting out shaky breaths, he began to calm down as a gentle hand came up, rubbing circles onto his back, making him turn his head slightly to look at Schlatt, who was holding Fundy in one arm, rubbing his back with the other.

Schlatt sighed, “Get some rest kiddo, we’ll move tomorrow. I’ll carry you if I gotta.”

Tubbo was perfectly okay with that, letting sleep take him.

Ranboo gulped slightly, watching Tubbo in silence, waiting for his breathing to even out as his cheek was smooshed against his chest, using his thumb to wipe away the loose tears from his eyes.  
The younger boy glanced up to Schlatt and Fundy, the older man holding the sleeping boy close to him, rocking him slightly as he hummed.

“We... We’re actually going to go, tomorrow?” He asked suspiciously.

Schlatt nodded, shrugging his shoulders, “Sooner we get back, sooner we can get you pal outta the shithole they call DSMP.”

Ranboo nodded.

“Besides, I’m sick and tired of looking after you kids,” he joked, standing up and ruffling Ranboo’s hair as he passed the bed, standing in front of the door, smirking at him “You guys take a lot of effort. I’m not sure how my suit is still clean after spending so much time with you messy lot.”

Surprisingly, there was no malice in his words, and Ranboo could tell.  
He held Tubbo a little closer, resting his chin on top of his head as he melted into the hug, smiling slightly as Tubbo mumbled in his sleep, mindlessly tightening his grip on Ranboo.

“Uh, if you kids need me I...” he trailed off, clearing his throat, “My bedroom door is always unlocked.”  
Schlatt turned, closing the door behind him, and Ranboo had to hold back a laugh as he heard him begin to quietly sing to Fundy.

They’d go find Philza tomorrow, and then mostly everything would be okay! Mostly... Sort of... Ranboo hoped.

Schlatt made his way down the stairs, holding Fundy close to his chest as he stepped into the kitchen, rocking the sleeping boy as he grabbed a bottle of water, using his teeth to uncap it, taking a sip.  
He quirked a brow up as Connor stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“You sure you want to do this?”

He hesitated, before nodding, “Uh huh. I’m not some fucking hero... But I’m not gonna let another kid down.”

“You know they’re probably gonna kill you, right? As soon as you step foot in there, you’re a dead man, dude,” Connor frowned, crossing his arms, “We really don’t have to—“

“Nah. They’ll listen to me at first,” Schlatt chuckled, “Then they’ll bicker about what to do with me. They’re gonna wanna hear what I have to say, especially if they wanna get Tommy back and get rid of Dream for good—“

“What if they send you back to Dream?” His friend snapped, digging his nails into his arms as he turned his gaze to the floor, “I... Look, man, I just don’t want another one of my fucking friends dying. I don’t wanna go back to that shithole either, believe me. But I’d go back if that meant you wouldn’t get fucking murdered.”

Fundy shuffled around in Schlatt’s arms, murmuring as he sucked on the edge of his teddy bears ear, his eyes still closed, fast asleep.

He smiled, “I’ll be fine. I’m not a pussy, if they wanna shoot me, they’ll do it. They most likely won’t at first though, if we think about this properly. Plan ahead.”

Connor watched him with uncertainty, furrowing his brows and taking a deep breath, shaking his head in disappointment as he looked over to Henry, who was stretching by the door, having just woke up, bouncing over excitedly.  
He watched him reach down, petting behind his ears, not looking his way.

“I’ll trust you, Schlatt.”

“Yeah, you fucking better,” he snorted, brushing Fundy’s hair behind his ears, a soft smile on his face, “And even if something did happen... If this kids parents aren’t alive, you gotta look after him, alright?”

“Of course,” Connor promised, “I’m not some jackass. I won’t leave him on the streets. Unless I get bored.”

“Fuck you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Schlatt v_v How do you guys feel about his character? I’m intrigued to know!
> 
> JOIN OUR DISCORD IF YOU’D LIKE!   
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Schlatt and the others begin their journey, while Tommy wakes up in another room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this chapter! A bit of a lighter one, mixed with some angst. Hopefully the fluff is stronger ^_^ sorry for the delayed chapters at the moment!  
> I unfortunately have a lot going on, and I am very prone to migraines, so writing can sometimes give me headaches aha.
> 
> We have a discord server, that will ping you when updates are out! You can also go give theories and talk with other fans, so join if you’d like!   
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

At first light, they began their journey back to L’manberg.  
It would take a few days, after all, the car journey had taken a while, and then the walk through the hoard had taken them almost two full days... It was going to be a long journey, and he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to make the trip.  
But remembering that Philza was potentially waiting for him back home, that their whole family were just waiting to be reunited again.

He had no choice. 

Tubbo heaved the bag over his shoulders, discretely letting out a gasp of pain, but keeping himself upright as he walked a bit behind Schlatt and Connor.  
Ranboo was beside him, holding his bag over his shoulder, Henry walking in between the both of them, his tail wagging happily.

It was his first walk in a while, but Tubbo felt a bit bad that the poor dog was still recovering and yet had to walk with them for days.  
They’d take breaks, probably, but Tubbo didn’t want to take too many breaks.

He narrowed his eyes towards Schlatt and Connor, who were discussing their friends back at the DSMP community.  
The names ‘Weston’ and ‘Minx’ occasionally being uttered, and then followed by ‘fuckbuddy’ with the pair laughing their asses off. 

“Oh, yeah no you wish you were fuck buddies,” Connor snorted, swishing his pocket knife around carefully, which was pretty cool to watch, “Come on, just admit you miss them.”

“I don’t and I never will,” Schlatt snapped, rolling his eyes.

Tubbo tried to pretend he didn’t notice Schlatt looking over his shoulder every few seconds, just to make sure they were okay.  
It was still weird that he seemed to care so much about them, he wasn’t used to it yet.

Fundy was asleep on Schlatt’s back, resting in the handmade baby carrier, drool dripping down his chin and onto Schlatt’s blazer, but the man didn’t seem to mind.  
In fact, his free hand was gently holding the little boy’s, which was resting over his shoulder onto his chest.

It was quite sweet.

“Hey, boys, just letting you know, this will be a long journey. Whenever you guys get tired just let us know and we’ll find a place to rest for a while, what’dya think? It is gonna—“

“Take a few days, yadah yadah. We know. We walked for two days straight through the hoard. We know.”

Both Connor and Schlatt stopped walking, turning around completely, looking utterly dumbfounded.  
Schlatt immediately scowled, “You fucking what? You walked through a hoard?!”

Ranboo gulped, nodding, “We— We were trapped... I got separated from Philza and Tubbo was separated from everyone else... We had to go through, otherwise we would of died ourselves.”

Schlatt gawked at them, surprise as clear as day on his face, rubbing his hand down his cheek, groaning loudly, “Jesus Christ, and I thought we were the only ones who’d have to go through that trauma. Fucking hell— Are you—“

“No,” Tubbo interrupted before he could finish, tightening his grip on the bag, “But Fundy didn’t look at any of it, so it was worth it. I have to be strong.”

“Just because you ‘have’ to be strong doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be scared, Tubbo,” Connor said quietly, “When me and Schlatt walked through— well. It was originally three of us who had tried to escape.”

Ranboo hissed, his hand suddenly in Tubbo’s, “I’m— I’m sorry for your loss...”

“It’s fine, we found out he was a rat anyway,” the suited up man rolled his eyes, adjusting his sleeves, before continuing walking, “Let’s just keep going for a bit, alright?”

Tubbo found he didn’t believe Schlatt, especially by Connor’s slight scowl, the wince when those words had left his mouth.  
Sometimes, that man came off as a complete asshole. He switched up rather quickly, being loving and kind in one moment, then harsh and snappy in another. It was confusing, and Tubbo couldn’t pinpoint how exactly he felt about the stupid clean man.

It was obvious that Fundy liked him.

Fundy had barely given him and Ranboo a second glance since being in his care, and Tubbo found himself wondering if Fundy and he were close during that time of the basement.  
But unfortunately, Ranboo couldn’t remember too much, and Although Schlatt had shared with him the story of his son, he didn’t think he would share any more stories.

He only did it so Tubbo would let Schlatt check his wounds.

Maybe he’d blackmail him into telling him more... That was too cruel, no. He wouldn’t.

His friend gave his hand a gentle squeeze, drawing his attention, and he looked up to him, giving him a soft smile.  
They began to continue their walk, a little bit behind Connor, who was behind Schlatt, but they managed to keep up well.  
Even if Tubbo’s hip was throbbing with pain now, his ankle screaming at him to stop. He was used to pushing through the pain.

“I— Fundy wants another plushie, Tubbo,” Ranboo randomly brought up, making him flash him a confused expression.

“Ey? That’s a bit out of nowhere.”

Ranboo shifted nervously, his cheeks pink “I didn’t wanna forget that I... I want one too. I miss my cat and— well— it’s not a big deal! Gosh I just... 

Tubbo blinked.

Thinking more about it, Ranboo probably couldn’t remember a time where he had plushies and toys, where he could cuddle something and give it a name and have it mean so much to him.  
Tubbo did, back at L’manberg, and he had Henry too, so he was completely fine. He didn’t need plushies anyway, but Ranboo... That wasn’t fun.  
So he gave Ranboo’s hand a tight squeeze, stomping his good foot down.

“We need to find a shop.”

The two eldest looked over to them worriedly for a moment, relaxing when they could see the bright red face of Ranboo, instead, their worried expressions replaced with confusion.

Schlatt sighed, pinching his brows, “What for? You kids good?”

“Ranboo and Fundy need plushies.”

The man looked even more confused.

“Isn’t he fuckin’ sixteen? And Fundy already has one—“

“Boo friend...” Fundy whispered, half asleep, but waking up from curiosity of the sudden stop, “Can we?”

He almost laughed at the way Schlatt rolled his eyes, groaning and leaning back slightly, actually laughing when he almost dropped Fundy out of the carrier.  
The group just laughed, bickering quietly, until Schlat finally gave in.

“Fine! Fine! You fucking assholes win, we’ll find some stupid kids store. Maybe we can find some sonic toys to feed your kink, Connor,” He smirked.

“I do not have a sonic kink,” Connor deadpanned.

Fundy blinked curiously as Schlatt put him on the floor, letting the little boy’s hand pull on Schlatt’s shirt, “What’s kink?”

Tommy’s head felt fuzzy as he began to wake up, keeping his eyes closed as he came to, the light from the window shining onto him, making his face feel warm.

There was someone beside him, he was sort of aware of it, but not completely. Slowly, he fluttered his eyes open, leaning closer to the light touch, his sight still adjusting to the new room.

He was surprised to see that he hadn’t woken up in the basement like he usually did.   
This was nothing like the basement.  
It felt warm, safe, wrapped in a soft blanket with gentle touches and light whispers. He felt... Insanely safe.

One of the persons hands were in his hair, threading through carefully, undoing all his knots and tangles, while his freehand was holding one of Tommy’s.  
Their hands were much bigger than his, more calloused and yet so gentle.  
He realised rather quickly that it was Sam, the touches and carefulness was the exact same, and he could tell the difference between him and Dream easily. 

Sam was kind.  
Dream was not.

Although Dream was beginning to confuse him, his touch and his words... Tommy didn’t want to think about it yet.

“Tommy...” Sam murmured, “Are you alright, Tommy?” 

Tommy stared at him, just taking in Sam’s exhausted appearance.  
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore the black eye slowly healing, the cut lip and the bruises.  
The circles under his eyes were dark and shadowing, making him look even worse for ware. 

How long had Sam gone without sleep? Did he sleep when Tommy was back in the basement? Maybe he slept when he did, because he wasn’t sure if he had seen Sam sleep even once.

“Tommy?” 

Only now did he realise not only had he not answered Sam, but he also stared at him like an idiot.

As Tommy opened his mouth to speak, he croaked, his words coming out as sort of squeaks, unable to speak coherently.  
His big blue eyes widened, and he realised just how raw his throat felt.  
Frowning, he leant back into Sam’s hand, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

The green haired man seemed to realise just how sleepy the blond was, chuckling to himself as he nodded, “That’s alright... Take your time. You went through— you witnessed something not so good... You don’t need to talk until you’re ready, alright?”

He didn’t know how to react to that, so instead he just held Sam’s hand a little tighter, glancing down to himself.

All the blood from Dream’s hands and that stranger’s death had been washed off, and he was in an entirely different outfit.   
He was wearing an oversized button up shirt, the top few buttons undone as to not make him feel trapped, and honestly, he didn’t really care.  
He slightly pulled the blanket a bit over him, shuddering.

“You’ve been asleep for the past two days, I’m not really surprised,” Sam softly admitted, “Dream uh... Dream dropped you and you hit your head, you might have a little bit of a headache still.”

Tommy winced, only now noticing the pain in the back of his head.

He wanted to get up, he wasn’t exactly sure why, but he did. Propping himself up on his elbows, he began to push himself up slightly, gasping in pain and raising his hand to his head, scrunching his face up in pain.  
Sam was immediately by his side, helping him sit up in the bed, propping some pillows behind him to help provide some source of comfort, taking his face in his hands to inspect his head.

They were in the infirmary, Tommy definitely recognised it. It was hard to not be able to, everything reeked of cleanliness, bloodied sheets in a basket in the corner of the room, bandages discarded on one of the counters with a bunch of other bullshit that Tommy couldn’t bother to wrap his head around or even think to comprehend.

The door opened and the same woman that had been treating Sapnap the other day stepped in, closing the door behind her as she walked in, pausing at the sight of Sam and Tommy.

Quirking her brow, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Whatcha’ doing in here, Sam? Aren’t you meant to be working?”

Sam faltered slightly, looking away from Tommy and over to her, nodding, “Ah... Yes... But Dream is currently out. Nobody was here and I wanted to make sure Sam was alright. Minx, is—“ the taller man took a glance at Tommy, clearing his throat as he returned his gaze towards her.  
“Is Sapnap alright?”

A scowl immediately took over her face, “Dumb little cunt beat him so bad he broke a rib,” she scoffed, shaking her head, “Fuckin’— I will beat him myself if I get the chance. He’s pretty out of it, I’m not fuckin’ surprised, not much to calm him down at first. Suggested bringing Quackity and he lost it at me.”

“You can’t blame him...” Sam whispered, “Dream took everything from him.”

Minx hummed, turning away from him as she snatched up something from the counter, picking up a glass of water and handing it over to Tommy, then motioning for him to hold a hand out.  
He did so, watching as two pills were placed into his palm.

Tommy raised a brow, “drugs?” He croaked out.

Minx laughed, shaking her head, “Nothin’ fun. Just something to help with the pain. Too young for anythin’ more,” she looked to Sam “I mean, we don’t got any weed—“

“He’s not having weed even if we did have some,” Sam quickly interrupted, narrowing his eyes.

“Alright alright, don’t be all big brother on me,” she muttered.

Tommy laughed slightly, plopping the pills into his mouth and picking up the glass of water, taking a sip from the cup, closing his eyes as he attempted to swallow the pills.

‘You’re my little brother, Tommy’ 

He gagged, gasping as he choked on the pills, unsure of how, but a bowl in his hands within seconds, coughing up the water into the bowl and retching, his head swirling with thoughts.

Oh god, he had completely forgotten about that. 

Dream was his brother? How? When? No— What?  
It didn’t make any sense. He had faint memories of having a brother, but he didn’t remember pretty much anything about him.   
Their parents had kicked them out, for reasons he wasn’t sure, he was only little when it happened. Younger than five? Again, he wasn’t too sure.

Dream couldn’t be his brother, it made no sense whatsoever!

But... 

How did Dream know he had a brother? How did he know exactly how to calm him down, how to hold him, his nickname ‘Toms’... How did he know any of that?

He had to be his brother, and that was terrifying. The only family he had left was the monster who took the other family he had. 

Sam was rubbing his back in circle motions, a worried expression on his face as Tommy finally stopped coughing, calming down.  
He could feel the tears in his eyes, but he forced them to not fall, blinking repeatedly.

“Did— Did I upset you kiddo? Somethin’ trigger you?” Minx was on the other side of him, sitting right on the edge of the bed, her hand on his head, ruffling his hair slightly.

“He— He’s my brother,” He whispered.

Both Sam and Minx stiffened.

“Dream— Dream— What do I do, Sam?” His voice broke, meeting the familiar blue eyes, which were just as teary as his.

The older man sighed softly, reaching over to wrap his arms around him, holding him tightly and carefully, but not tight enough to hurt him, but enough to help him feel secure and safe.  
Which, he immediately did, melting into the warm embrace, choking back his tears, his shaky fingers digging into Sam’s shirt.

“He’s not— I... Dream isn’t your brother, Tommy. Only you get to decide who your family is,” he whispered, rocking slowly with him in his arms as Tommy cried.

“But—“

“No... No no... Unless you want him to be, he’s not your family.”

“He’s right, you know?” Minx piped in, giving Tommy a small smile, “He ain’t your loved one ‘less he treats you like it. He doesn’t treat you like it.”

As much as Tommy wanted to agree, he found himself at a loss for words again. Every single time he went to speak, it was as if his throat closed up.   
That pushing any words through would just result in more hurt, so he stopped altogether, nodding and sinking more into Sam, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, sniffling.  
He knew it didn’t matter what he thought.  
It didn’t matter how he felt.

Dream was his brother.

Tommy’s brother killed his family, the only people that truly understood him.

And that hurt so much more than a stranger killing his loved ones.   
Someone who was meant to love him...

Dream wasn’t going to let this go, he knew this. He obviously told him for a reason, which scared Tommy.  
Why did he tell him? Was it so he felt like he HAD to stay? Was it so he didn’t leave? He felt sick. He just wanted to stay curled up in Sam’s arms forever.  
For now, this was the only place he felt nothing could hurt him.

Sam didn’t let go, and Tommy let himself close his eyes again, the throbbing pain in his head slowly turning to nothingness, leaving him numb.

His older brother pet his hair lovingly, closing his eyes as he let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes to catch Minx staring straight at him.  
Shifting uncomfortably, he frowned.

“What?”

“He ain’t gonna survive here.”

Sam didn’t respond, instead, looking down to the sleeping boy in his arms, watching as he twitched occasionally, trying to wiggle closer to him instinctively.

He knew this.

“I’m... I’m not sure how I’m going to get him out,” he admitted quietly, “This would be a perfect opportunity, if it wasn’t for Punz. If I knew that Dream wouldn’t return out of the blue.”

Silently, Minx made her way to the other side of the room, cleaning up some of the surfaces. Taking out a rag, she chucked the bowl in the sink, turning it on and beginning to wash it.  
She began, “When Schlatt snuck out, he told me he was goin’ through a secret area. A place that nobody knew about, apparently he overheard Sapnap talkin’ about it as a kid.”

Sam perked up slightly, curious.

“To my knowledge, they ain’t found him yet. Nor Connor. They don’t got a clue how they got out either...” she looked back to him, “You know what I’m saying. Don’t you?” 

He knew exactly what she was saying, and he could kiss her for that.  
There was a way they could escape, possibly together, if Sapnap told them where their escape route was.  
Although, he began to wonder why Sapnap hadn’t escaped yet if he had the opportunity.

A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded, “I know. I just need to find a good time... Talk to Sapnap, figure out how to— how to get Dream away from Tommy for a bit... It’ll be complicated, Minx.”

“I’ll help as much as I can, it ain’t gonna be a lot though, you know?” Minx scoffed, “Dream ain’t exactly fond of me, the lil’ cunt fucker.”

Sam would laugh, but he wasn’t in the mood to laugh.

Looking at the innocent boy in his arms reminded him of a time he missed dearly. A time he would cheer the little boy up, a time where the little boy was the only thing that could put a smile on his face. A time where, no matter what, Sam would always had been okay because he had his little brother Tommy.  
His little Tommy Nook, as he called him.  
Before he discovered he was a father to another boy, before he discovered he would have to leave, before...

He missed that little bundle of joy.

Carefully, he laid Tommy down properly in the bed again, chuckling quietly as Tommy whined and reached for him without even realising, still asleep.  
His older brother tucked him in, brushing his hair out of his face and planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Little Tommy Nook.”

And with that, Sam got to his feet, leaving the room in silence.

It was time to talk to Sapnap.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Technoblade and Quackity talk about plans, while Tubbo has to face his fear of Malls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff for you all! ^_^ Take it while it’s here!  
> Shorter chapter today, sorry guys!

Technoblade wrung his hands together, pinching his brows as he gazed at the sunrise, lost in thought.  
He hadn’t slept much recently, and there was nobody to force him to sleep, so he just decided simply that he didn’t need to.

After all, he was still making plans. 

Techno didn’t have time to sleep, not when that sick green bastard had hold of his Tommy, their Tommy.  
Their stupid gremlin child who never knew when to shut up... Technoblade wished he had never complained about how loud he had been, because sitting in silence felt like torture now.  
Sometimes, he’d see a figure out of the corner of his eye, expecting to see the loudmouth blond behind him, just to be met with nothing once he turned to face him.

It was probably the lack of sleep that was making him so emotional.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he turned his head to see Quackity standing beside him, watching the sun rise with him, a solemn expression on his face, his hand shoved deep into his pockets, the other stubby arm held protectively to his chest.  
Quackity took a deep breath, looking to the floor, then back to Technoblade, frowning.

“You know where Puffy’s gone?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Ah,” he nodded, returning his gaze back to the sun.

“Sapnap and Karl always woke me up to look at the sunrise,” Quackity’s voice was soft as he spoke, “I— I never really understood why until one day. One day I asked Karl. The dumbass just smiled at me and told me ‘everyday is a new day, and we’...” he took a deep breath, “he said ‘We will never know when it’s our last, so we’ll watch it together’”

Techno could tell he hadn’t let that off his chest in a while, and who was he to shut him up?  
He wasn’t good with friends... Or emotions... Or anything, really. But listening was one of his best qualities.

The pinkette sighed, pulling his braid over his shoulder, tidying it up a little as he breathed out, “Tubbo was the same I think... Although I never asked. Most of the time, when he woke up, he’d wake Tommy up and go watch the sunrise and he’d tell him how it—“ he chuckled, “That it was a new day. Tommy always told him to ‘shut the fuck up’... I didn’t realise that they had stopped doing it when moving here.”

He snorted, “They must of thought they were safe.”

Quackity’s mouth drew into a thin line, nodding slowly, “I’m sorry we couldn’t keep them safe.”

“It wasn’t your fault... Or anyones... I-I... This world is just a shit pit. God is punishing us.”

“You believe in God?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Quackity deflated slightly, taking his hand out of his pockets, raising to adjust his beanie, which looking at it, it was a complete mess.  
It must be hard to put on a beanie while only having one arm. 

Quackity went to speak, pausing as Technoblade stared at him, “What? Hey man, the fuck you looking at, ey?”

Techno shrugged, looking away, “You.”

“Sapnap said you were a good guy, so I trust you,” he suddenly brought up, clearing his throat, “I want to go save my fiancé’s. You want to save Tommy, right?”

He hesitated.

Usually, he’d jump at the chance to go and save Tommy, in fact, he had made attempts to sneak out, but never went through with it, purely due to how worried his father was and how desperate and clingy Wilbur was being.  
Of course, that wasn’t his Twin’s fault. He had been through so much pain and trauma, Wilbur was just scared of losing someone else.

But... But that was holding him back now.

As well as the fact Quackity clearly wasn’t in a good place mentally either.  
He looked just as, if not more, exhausted than Techno himself.  
Not to mention he didn’t have a prosthetic, one armed would be a major disadvantage.

Technoblade didn’t know how big the DSMP was, he didn’t know how many people were there.  
The only information had was from when they had been attacked, and from what he had been told by the L’manbergians.  
They had a shit load of guns, a crap ton of resources and a lot more people.  
They were at an instant disadvantage, especially seen as they were going to be sneaking out three people.

Five people sneaking out of a largely protected area, one of those people being insanely loud and selfless?  
It wouldn’t work.

“No. We’re not going to be sneaking in.”

“What?” Quackity blinked, shrinking back, “But— What about Tommy? Tommy is—“

“You don’t care about Tommy.”

It was straightforward, and it was instant. He hadn’t really meant for it to come out like that.  
Quackity and Tommy had spoken before and they did get on quite a bit, but they weren’t necessarily friends.  
Technoblade wasn’t angry, but he knew that wasn’t why Quackity was coming to him. He wasn’t asking Techno to save Tommy.

Techno rubbed at his neck, huffing, “I’m not... I’m not mad, I didn’t mean for it to— uh— come out like that. You want my help to save your fiancé’s, not Tommy... I would of preferred if you were straight up about it.”

“Nothing is ‘straight’ about me,” the smaller man slapped on a proud grin, and Techno gave him the blankest expression he could manage.

Quackity didn’t seem to mind, bursting into laughter.

It almost made Techno smile.

“I think— I think you and Sapnap would be great friends. You guys should talk more when we get him back! He doesn’t have a great fucking friendship streak since that ugly ass green wearing mother fucker was one of his BFF’s but... But I think you’d be a great friend for him.”

“I don’t know—“

“Yeah, you’d be great,” he spoke over him, grinning and tapping his feet happily.

“Sapnap is... Really shy, even if he doesn’t come across as it. I don’t think he spoke before he met me and Karl, actually. He never really spoke about his childhood, but I think he was mute before DSMP...” he shifted on his feet, letting out a heavy sigh, “It... It really sucks. You remind me of him a lot.”

“I’m not mute.”

“Neither is he! I— Dude, I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, mute is perfectly fine! I was just saying you remind me of him. Stoic, quiet, charming and sometimes monotone. Except I think you are the most blank person I know— no offence, man.”

Techno had no idea whether to take offence or not, so he shrugged, “Alright...”

They stood together in silence, for god knows how long, they didn’t keep track. Watching as the sun fades into pale soft blues, the white fluffy clouds developing and floating by overhead.  
He was ready to go back home, until he heard footsteps drawing closer, turning his head to watch someone running over, waving their arms vigorously, at a desperate attempt to get their attention, which worked.

The pinkette frowned, “You think he wants to talk to us?”

“Not sure,” Quackity placed his hand on his head, “HEY MAN, THE—“

Jack began waving harder, and as they looked down the street, they froze up in terror at the sight of a car driving through the opening gates.  
Fight or flight kicked in, Quackity quickly shoving Technoblade, wide eyed.

“GO GO— DREAM’S HERE MAN— YOU GOTTA HIDE YOU AND YOUR BROTHER!”

Tubbo gulped as they grew closer to the shopping district, tightening his grip on his bag as he stalled, looking over his shoulder, trying to catch sight of any walkers nearby.

There weren’t, and he didn’t know if it was a bad or good thing.  
He truly did not want to go inside.

The last time he had entered a mall, he left with a chunk out of his face, permanent trauma and even worse nightmares, so he wasn’t too sure about going back inside.  
And truthfully, his hip was staring to hurt so bad he was really struggling to walk.

Ranboo was carrying Fundy now, walking ahead, beside Connor, talking about video games and other things, mostly how Ranboo didn’t remember what they were and Connor immediately had gotten surprised.  
He knew Schlatt, on the other hand, was keeping a close eye on him, not walking as fast anymore, lingering behind.

Tubbo gulped, taking a shaky breath as he caught up beside Schlatt.

“You alright, kid?”

He nodded enthusiastically, trying to force a smile on his face, “Yeah— yeah I’m okay.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you can’t bullshit a bullshitter?” He quirked a brow, smirking, “You’re limping, kiddo. Come here, I’ll give you a piggy back ride, just be kind, my back ain’t what it used to be.”

As much as he wanted to say no, it was a very sweet offer, and it did mean he didn’t have to walk... It also meant he didn’t have to let go of someone, which meant they probably weren’t going to split up and that made Tubbo feel so relaxed.  
So he nodded slowly, letting Schlatt crouch down infront of him, hoping onto his back and wrapping his arms around his neck, letting out a short cry at the sudden spike of pain in his hip, tightening his grip on Schlatt’s shirt. 

Ranboo immediately looked over, worry as clear as day in his eyes, ready to defend Tubbo, but realising quickly that Tubbo was just sore.  
He gave him a small smile, cuddling Fundy closer, who babbled happily, energetic enough that Tubbo had a feeling that if he were walking, the kid would be off his rockers running about and getting into all sorts of different kinds of trouble.

Gently, he tightened his grip, relaxing slightly when Schlatt rested one hand on top of his, worry laced in his brows.

“You sure you wanna go in? I can get you to stay out here with Connor. Or I can go in alone, grab some stuff—“

“No! No... I... I’m alright. I just have bad memories with um... With malls,” he whispered the last part, shuddering in fear, “I’ll be fine... Can we just not split up though? I just don’t wanna split up.”

Schlatt nodded, giving his hand a light squeeze, before lifting him a bit more, making his way towards the doors, making his way through the cracked glass, avoiding any of the remaining shards, making sure the others were careful as they followed soon after.

It was just as cold and dark as the other mall, and there were definitely some dead wandering around. Low groans echoing throughout the empty building, sending shivers down Tubbo’s spine.  
Fundy whimpered, clutching onto Ranboo tightly.

“Scary...” he whispered, Ranboo nodding to agree.

“Don’t worry kiddo, nothing’s gonna hurt you. Besides, if anything happens, we’ll just throw Connor into the dead, hey? How about that?” Schlatt snorted, laughing to himself, Tubbo smiled.

Connor looked disappointed, sending a glare his way, “Don’t even joke about that man.”

“I’ll joke about whatever the fuck I want, asswipe.”

Schlatt tapped his torch carefully, a wide grin spreading across his face as it flicked on, checking the area around.  
It was dirty and old, blood stains covering the marble flooring, with littered corpses all around, most of which had been zombies taken care of by other scavengers.  
Thankfully, it didn’t seem they would have to worry too much.

Although, Tubbo wasn’t sure if he was just seeing things, or if they really was someone running past one of the shops.

He was probably seeing things, so he settled down once again, resting his head against Schlatt’s.  
For a moment, he thought he had crossed a line as the older man stiffened.  
But he gently ruffled his hair, laughing softly.

“Alright kid, I got you. You’re here with me, no one will hurt you,” he whispered it, making it seem more real, more promising.

It was for his ears, and only his.

Schlatt reminded him of Philza.

When they arrived at the build a bear shop, it was nothing but excitement for Fundy, who immediately began squealing, and Tubbo was very relieved there weren’t many dead ones around as he slipped off of Schlatt’s back, limping over to Fundy and Ranboo, taking Fundy’s free hand, that wasn’t being held by Ranboo.

“Let’s find you a teddy bear, yeah?” He smiled sweetly, turning to speak to Schlatt and Connor.

“We’re gonna take out a few of these fuckers, give us a minute, less,” The eldest muttered, sighing as he took out the hatchet that was attached to his side, striding on over towards one of the growling zombies.

Connor winked at them, “Yep. Just— Check if there are any mario ones.”

He rolled his eyes, fighting back a grin as he walked into the shop, making sure he was in front, knife in hand as he checked around the store.

It was in pretty much perfect condition, nevermind the blood, plushies lined up perfectly, with racks of clothing for dressing them up.  
There were a few decaying corpses, that made Tubbo’s nostrils burn, but the little boy didn’t seem to care, gasping as he spotted something.  
Fundy’s eyes gleamed, letting go of Ranboo and Tubbo’s hands, rushing over to the little podium of teddy bears, making grabby hands towards one of them.

“TECHNO!” He squealed, clapping his hands.

Tubbo blinked, looking over to the plushie that Fundy has specifically picked out, his heart melting at the similar looking teddy. It was a pig, and at first, he was extremely confused as to why he immediately thought of Techno, until his eyes landed on the kings crown resting on top of his head, and the cloak around its shoulders, a soft smile playing on his lips.  
It was sweet that Fundy already had things that reminded him of family.  
It made something in Tubbo swell with joy.

“Tech— Techno?” Ranboo stammered, confused.

“Ah, he’s um— Techno’s my brother. Fundy’s uncle and stuff. One time, when someone went on a run in L’manberg they brought back some dress up stuff... Fundy and him dressed up and Technoblade pretended to be a guy who killed a king and stole his stuff,” he laughed.

Ranboo smiled, “Dress up? What’s that?”

“Oh... Uh... Dress up is when you put on funny clothes, or clothes in general that aren’t yours, I suppose! You play a character and make up stories and stuff...”

“Oh.” Ranboo said quietly, his smile faltering as he fidgeted with his fingers, lowering his gaze to the floor.

It was still so sad to him that Ranboo couldn’t remember his childhood, or well, most of his childhood.  
He didn’t remember many of the games he and Tubbo used to play, he didn’t remember a lot.  
But at least now, they had a chance to recreate some of those memories.

Tubbo frowned, chewing on his lip, wondering what to do as he scanned the shop, for something to do, something to make his friend smile.  
Something that maybe, he can help him remember.

As Ranboo handed Fundy the plushie, he gasped as he felt a light jab in his back, jumping in shock, spinning so fast on the back of his heel that he fell over.  
Looking up, his whole face went bright red in embarrassment.

Tubbo grinned from ear to ear, his cheeks red too, a very small pirate hat resting on top of his brown curls, an even smaller plastic sword in his hand.  
“ARR CAPTAIN!” He yelled at him, bursting into a squeaky fit of laughter.

Ranboo held it for a moment, before laughing too, shakily grabbing one of the random hats from the floor beside him, putting it on, “Uh— Arr! Captain?”

“No, no, you’re a nurse. Not a pirate, you gotta pretend you care about injuries!” Tubbo suggested, helping Ranboo up to his feet, “Like uh- my peg leg or something!”

“Oh— alright then,” he agreed.

“FUNDY PLAY TOO!” Fundy whined, slapping at Ranboo’s legs, a crown on his head.

The tall and lanky boy scooped him up, holding his hat just to make sure it doesn’t fall off, before clearing his throat, “Captain Tubbo! We must help your injuries!”

“I DON’T GOT ANY! ARR!” Tubbo giggled, darting down the aisle of plushies, pulling some of them down as Ranboo and Fundy chased after them, all of them giggling and screeching at one another.

Tubbo skidded around the corner, backing up as he laughed, holding his stomach, cramping from how bad he had been laughing.  
“Oh my god— oh my god—“ he squeaked, feeling hands coming up from behind him, gripping his waist tightly.

“Schlatt?” He blinked, looking up to Ranboo and Fundy in front of him.

The colour drained from both their faces, backing up slowly.  
Ranboo’s arms snaked around Fundy, clinging to him tightly, gaping at Tubbo in terror.

Oh.

That definitely wasn’t Schlatt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will have a good handful of trigger warnings. As I said, this story is dark, so it will go into dark topics! I will make sure the trigger warnings are obvious ^_^ <3 stay safe!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Monsters aren’t just the dead.  
> Monsters are everywhere.
> 
> (READ NOTES)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER INCLUDE CANNIBALISM (NOT DESCRIBED), HINTED AT P*DOPHILIA (NOTHING HORRIBLE HAPPENS) AND CHILD ABUSE AND TORTURE.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STAY SAFE, DO NOT READ IF THESE ARE POTENTIAL TRIGGERS. THERE WILL BE A BRIEF DESCRIPTION IN END NOTES IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ!
> 
> STAY SAFE ^_^ <3

Before Tubbo could even dare make an escape, one hand moved from his waist to his neck, holding him in place, tightening at every attempt of movement he made, letting out a choked squeak as his hands flung to the hand around his throat.

“What are three little kiddies doing around here, ey?” The man purred, the smell of alcohol on his breath as he spoke against Tubbo’s ear, sending him a whole body shudder, “Haven’t you heard? There’s monsters about.”

Ranboo looked terrified, backing up even more, Fundy shaking in his embrace and whimpering, “I— I— Please um— please let go of my friend—“

“What’s your names?” He asked, a smile on his face, “I’m sure ya’ll got pretty names, huh?”

Tubbo wanted to throw up as one of his hands went to his hair, gagging as the chokehold tightened slightly.  
He wanted to tell Ranboo to run with Fundy, but he had a feeling this guy wasn’t alone.

And quite honestly, Tubbo didn’t know what would happen if he was alone with this creep.

Being so close to him, he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes, thankfully, different smelling from Schlatt, because he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to go near him if he shared the same smell as this creep.  
His teeth were wickedly crooked and discoloured, his hair a black greasy mop, pulled back out of his face.  
His chin rough with a beard, which Tubbo could feel against his cheek due to the no personal space whatsoever.

His breath was vile.

God, Tubbo was going to have to scrub himself clean so hard he takes off as many layers of skin as possible, after this.

“I—“

“Name, now, otherwise your friend here won’t be nothin’ more than a corpse.”

The tall boy faltered, and Tubbo’s heart clenched at the sight of tears in his eyes, “Mark— my name is Mark. This is... This is Phil and that’s— that’s— That’s Mikey.”  
The lies slipped easily from his tongue, and if Tubbo didn’t know his real name, he totally would of fallen for it.

Thankfully, so did the creep, humming in acknowledgment, “Cute names, awe... Say, how about you all come back to my camp, Hm? It’s not exactly safe ‘round these parts.”

The masked boy shook his head, his feet tapping with pure anxiety, stammering, “I— I think we’re alright. We’re okay, actually. Our— Our dads are waiting for us,” he took a nervous step forward, holding his hand out for Tubbo to take, his mismatched eyes meeting his friends.

“We should— we should be going now—“

“Nonsense! We’re all just havin’ a little fun, ain’t we, Mikey?” The man chuckled, tugging on Tubbo’s hair, forcing him to look up at the ceiling with a whimper, feeling the fingers tighten.

“Please— Please don’t hurt him,” Ranboo’s voice broke, “He— You— I’m—“

“Can’t get your words out?” The man sighed, shaking his head, “Poor nervous little birdy. Don’t worry, I’m not going to harm a single hair on his head. Just want to make friends, don’t I? We can be friends.”

“We— we don’t know you, sir,” Ranboo’s voice was shaky, faltering on every other word.

He paused, cocking his head slightly, raising a brow towards him, “What? We’re friends! I saved you, did you know there was an empty in the back entrance? If you had stepped out the fire exit, golly, you would of been screwed, buddy!”

Ranboo gulped, side stepping as Fundy tried to squirm out of his arms, whispering to him.

“What’s the kid upset about? Want me to—“

“NO—“ He snapped, immediately realising his mistake and shrinking back, “I— I mean— No— No thank you, He’s just scared...”

The man nodded slowly, as if it made complete sense, a glint in his eye, “I see... Fear is such an interesting concept, isn’t it? Sets you into all different sorts of moods...”

His nails grazed over Tubbo’s skin, and he had to force himself not to throw up all over the guy, biting down hard on his tongue to stop him from crying out.

His hand stopped, tightening around him again, before laughing, “Young folk always have such soft skin. I wonder what—“

“THE FUCK YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!” 

The man looked up, a satisfied smirk on face as a few other men dragged a scared looking Connor, and an even more furious looking Schlatt into the room, throwing Connor to the floor while two held Schlatt back, stopping him from straight up running to attack the man holding Tubbo.

His eyes widened with fear, opening his mouth to speak, before choking, trying to scratch at the fingers over his throat, his knees shaking together, trying to desperately get away.  
It was a scary situation, and the fact that now Schlatt and Connor were in danger too, it was terrifying.

Why was it always him who had to suffer?

“Put the fuckin’ kid down man, Jesus Christ— This is between you and me. Two adults. Not some fucking kid!”

The man, who they assumed to be the leader, gave Schlatt a cheesy grin, “Oh? What are you going to do about it, hm?” And Tubbo felt his heart sink into his stomach as the leader licked his teeth, flinching when Fundy let out a sob, whining, clinging to his teddy Boo and the teddy Techno.

“You want our shit, right? Take it. Take it fucking all, just don’t fucking touch him, you creep,” Schlat hissed, not giving a shit about the blood leaking from a cut on his cheek, too busy burning with fury.

Tubbo let out a deep breath when the grip loosened, falling to his knees. He wheezed out, coughing and spluttering, his shaky hands going to his throat.  
He immediately went to go straight to Ranboo and Fundy, but was stopped by the man grabbing him by his leg, dragging him back over, Tubbo thrashing and yelling about as he did so.

“Hey boys, look at him. Like a little snake, our next meal trying to escape from us, huh?”

A chorus of laughter filled the room, and then melted into silence, aside from Tubbo’s panicked gasping, scratching at the floor in attempts to get away from him, Schlatt’s yellow now muffled into nothingness, too full of fear to pay attention as the man knelt on the kid’s chest, looking down on him.

“Little patch on your face, ain’t that a sweet accessory,” he cooed, a twisted smile on his lips, and he wanted to punch it off of him so hard, “We don’t come across many people, but when we do, we make sure to make them...”

He breathed out, “Real happy.”

“JESUS CHRIST JUST TAKE OUR GOD DAMN SHIT!” Schlatt screamed, throwing all his bags to the floor, including all his weapons, “TAKE IT FUCKING ALL— LEAVE MY SON ALONE YOU SICK FUCK!”

“What’s got you so riled up, Hm? Want me to be a little rougher on your precious little angel?” The leader roughly grabbed Tubbo’s shirt, raising him up slightly, pinching his cheeks, digging his nails into his skin, and Tubbo’s scar began to burn.  
If he could, he would rip his bandage off and show them his scar, maybe it’d freak them out enough they’d drop him.

Or kill him.

Tubbo hadn’t realised he was sobbing until the man had raised his knee off of his chest, curling up into a ball and wailing into his hands, his whole body shaking with such a force everything felt like he were in an Earth quake.  
His eyes landed on Schlatt, who was bright red in the face with anger, looking ready to kill just about anyone.

“Alright, alright... We’ll get a snack sooner or later. But this is a good trade, I suppose. Your lives for your things, great deal, in my opinion!” The leader chuckled, cracking his knuckles, “Unfortunately, you’ve upset me quite a bit.”

“Let’s head back to our camp, why don’t we? We can chat a little bit more in our comfort.”

Tubbo wanted to go over to Schlatt, but one of the men in the room held him by the shirt, holding him down to the floor, watching helplessly as the leader threw a punch, hitting his older friend right in the face, wincing as Schlatt let out a pained yell.

It didn’t stop there.

It didn’t stop for a while.

Tubbo didn’t know how long had passed, but he soon realised they were finally done with him, Schlatt’s heavy breathing heard from behind him.  
Ranboo was sobbing, his legs buckling as two of the bandits snatched him by his arms, but allowing him to keep a hold on Fundy.  
Tubbo cried out in fear as was ripped from the ground, up into someone’s arms, thrown over their shoulder like a ragdoll.

A sack was pulled over Tubbo’s head, his wrists now bound and sore, and as much as he wanted to, he didn’t scream.  
He didn’t yell.

He didn’t say a single word, just listening as the strangers laughed amongst themsleves, straining just to make sure he could at least hear Fundy’s nervous squeaking, a gentle reminder that he was still alive.

Tubbo let out a shaky breath as the sack was tugged off of his head, looking up to see that they were in a much bigger room now, all of them had been shoved in a chair, oddly, Ranboo and Fundy were the only ones not bound, sat in one of the chairs.  
Ranboo had a black eye, and tear stains on his cheek, but Fundy looked unharmed. When had one of them punched him? He had not a clue, his brain all fuzzy and scary at that moment.

Connor was still in the chair, chewing on the rope pulled across his mouth, preventing him from speaking.  
While Schlatt held a blank expression, brows furrowed in annoyance, his shoe tapping lightly against the floor beneath him, his eyes glued to the men around them, bickering and talking as if they just weren’t there.

Tubbo hated how the smell of blood and alcohol filled the room.

He hated the tension between the terrifying group of strangers.

He hated everything about this situation.

Schlatt had clearly been muffled by the rope, but had managed to push it out of his mouth, now hanging loosely around his neck, his eyes baring into the back of the leaders head.

The group were sat around a campfire, taking amongst themselves, acting as if they weren’t even there.  
They were picking at some sort of meat from over top the fire, feasting into it as if it were their last meal, and Tubbo felt his skin crawl looking over to the corner of human looking bones.  
He let out a shaky whimper, lowering his gaze to the floor, wiggling his toes, disgusted to find that his boots had been removed, as had every comforting article of clothing from each and every one of them.

Schlatt’s blazer was gone, along with his tie and shoes, Fundy’s coat was gone and discarded, leaving the little boy shivering against Ranboo, and then Connor was left sitting in some jeans and a short sleeved top, visibly annoyed that his sonic onesie had been taken from him.  
Ranboo had not yet had anything taken from him, and he assumed that they just hadn’t gotten to him yet.

It sucked, but it was obvious to anyone that Ranboo was not a violent person. Even a stranger would know that the tall child wouldn’t harm any breathing thing, I mean, he couldn’t hurt a fly.

“Come on kiddo, let me take your mask,” one of the men grumbled, raising a hand Ranboo’s face, grabbing his head with his other hand, digging his fingers into Ranboo’s hair and yanking it back.

The younger panicked, as soon as his mask was ripped off, he lunged forward, biting hard onto the man’s hand, ignoring the pained gasp, just to have a punch slammed into the side of his head.

“RANBOO—“ Tubbo cried out, tears welling up in his eyes as Fundy and Ranboo both tumbled to the floor, the younger one wailing loudly, backing up as he clung to his teddy bears.

“I— I’m okay,” his voice cracked, holding his face slightly, but crying as soon as the bandit snatched him up by the back of his shirt, stomping on his chest, hard and fast, Ranboo practically screaming in pain, twitching.

Schlatt tried to escape from his bindings, “STOP— FUCK— JESUS CHRIST, MAN, HE’S A KID! HE’S JUST A KID—“

“Joel...” The leader cooed, staring up at the man, “Alright, just don’t break him, alright? It ain’t your turn.”

“THE FUCKER BIT ME!” Joel snapped, motioning to his bleeding hand, surprised that he bit hard enough to draw so much blood.

“Like I said, just don’t kill him.” 

Tubbo began thrashing harder when the creep, Joel, cackled, slamming his boot into Ranboo’s ribs, the boys crying growing more and more severe, reaching out for Tubbo in fear, gasping,  
“Tub—“

“STOP! STOP PLEASE JUST STOP! WE— WE DIDN’T DO— WE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING— PLEASE!” He screamed, desperation laced in his words, his scar hurting as it pulled with each word.

The leader didn’t move a muscle, pretending as if he didn’t hear him.

All he could do was hold back terrified whimpers, flinching at every sob and cry that Ranboo let out, crying so hard his whole face hurt, his throat sore, waiting until the crying seemed to die down, the man retreating from Ranboo side to slump to the floor beside the campfire, digging right into his meal.  
The brunette looked over to his friend, his heart breaking.

Ranboo was still reaching out towards Fundy, whispering quietly to the somehow even smaller little boy, who was gasping, hyperventilating now after watching something so traumatic, so horrific happen, right in front of his eyes. 

“I—I want daddy— I want daddy— where’s daddy? Can— can I have daddy—“ Fundy was stuttering, crawling over to Ranboo, touching his bloody face, his bottom lip quivering.  
“I thought— I thought monsters bite?”

Oh.

Oh Tubbo was not going to recover from this.

Neither were Fundy and Ranboo.

“You know, good boys don’t lie,” The leader abruptly spoke up, a soft smile on his lips, ones that reeked of false sense of security and lies, his dull eyes meeting Tubbo’s wide ones, getting to his feet and brushing down his pants.

He slowly made his way over towards the brunette, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was being hunted, like prey.

Tubbo narrowed his eyes, holding his breath as his dirty hands rested upon his shoulders, refusing to look up.

The leader tilted his head slightly, standing behind him, one of his hands moving to Tubbo’s chin, tilting his head up, “Good boys tell the truth, don’t they, Tubbo?” He gleamed.

“Man what the fuck do you want? Clearly you want something if you’ve been stalking us,” Schlatt hissed, glaring, “Whatever it is, you got it. Just fuckin— Leave the poor kids alone, man. Leave them fucking alone.”

“You’ve been around these parts for a bit. Me and my men caught wind of you ‘round here and well... It’s been a bit hard finding food and all that. Especially nice ones,” he squeezed Tubbo’s cheek, “You aren’t the only people around though, are ya? ‘Cause I saw you talking to that little boy on the first day you came round this area...”

Schlatt stiffened.

“You tell me where he is, let us have all your shit, and you’ll all be off! Unfortunately, ya’ll ain’t getting away untouched...” the leader chuckled, running a hand through his greasy hair as his eyes lowered to the bloody and beaten Ranboo, who cowered,  
“But I won’t touch your boys no more.”

Schlatt twitched, and he knew it must of been a hard decision for him to make. Watching as the cogs began to turn in his head, holding his breath.  
His shoulders relaxed, nodding slowly, “Alright, fine. As long as you keep your word.”

He let go of Tubbo immediately, clapping his hands together, “Perfect!” He laughed happily, whipping out a knife and making his way over to Schlatt, cutting at the rope around his wrists and ankles, freeing him from the chair.  
There was no way Schlatt could take them all, so Tubbo knew that he had given up.

His brown eyes were full of guilt, “The kid lives in a treehouse. It’s hidden well, the little shit can protect himself. Hard to see, pretty fast.”

The leader nodded, “Awe, and you even helped! Thanks, muttonchops.”

His face dropped, “Get your friends and leave.”

Schlatt did, almost instantly, getting up and rushing over to Connor first, untying him so he could help take the boys.

Tubbo’s breathing was silent, holding his breath as Schlatt made his way over to him, crouching down in front of him, taking the knife and beginning to cut the rope tied around his wrists, burning into his skin.

Connor was tending to Ranboo, picking up the boy and apologising profusely as Ranboo let out heartbroken sobs, clinging to him and Fundy, who just looked heartbroken and confused.

Tubbo couldn’t think. 

He couldn’t even focus.

He just felt... Dirty.

‘I’ll be taking this,’ one of the bandits had said, taking a deep smell of the cardigan that Tubbo had once found comfort in.

He felt so dirty.

He jumped when he felt a touch on his shoulder, letting out a panicked cry, ready to scramble away, until he realised very quickly that it wasn’t one of the creeps, and was instead, Schlatt.  
He didn’t look as bad as Tubbo thought he would, definitely a black eye, a swollen lip, bloody nose, but it could be much worse, he guessed.

Tubbo didn’t want to look at Ranboo closely, ready to puke at just the thought of it.

Schlatt let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head, “God... Kid I’m so sorry... I never should of left you to go in by yourselves, fucking Christ...”

“Dad—“ Tubbo’s voice broke, balling his hands, pressing them into his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears, “Dad—“

Schlatt froze at that, his expression saddening, but quickly slapping on a more resssuing and gentle face.  
Gently, the bruised and beaten man raised a hand to comfort him, hesitating, “Hey... Kiddo... Can I touch you?” He whispered.

He nodded, choking out a sob as he opened his arms up, falling into Schlatt’s lap, letting the man hoist him up into his arms, wrapping them so tightly around him they Tubbo thought he really shouldn’t be able to breathe.  
But his brain was too caught up in his panicked state, sobbing into the crook of his neck, his hands shaking and teeth chattering.

“Oh... Tubz... Shh, shh, I’m here kiddo, I’m here... You were so brave, kiddo, you were so brave. I’m not gonna let them touch you ever fucking again, shh...” He murmured comforting words into his ear, completely different than what the creep had done.  
Although his body took a screenshot when a hand rested in his hair, letting out a terrified shriek and getting as close to the man comforting him as possible.

There were some whispers shared amongst the others, but Tubbo was too out of it to give a single shit, too busy feeling as if his whole world just came crashing down on him.  
He forgot how scary people could be... How evil and fucked up humanity was.

The brunette thought he had already had his reality check this month, but apparently he just had not suffered enough.

He sunk into the older man’s embrace, letting out soft whines, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as Schlatt held him close, not loosening his grip once, not even as he got up to his feet.

“I got you, Tubz, come on... I’m not letting go of you.”

Schlatt held him close, carrying him close to his chest, letting the younger boy hide in the crook of his neck, clenching his fists into the fabric of his shirt.  
At least he knew Schlatt wouldn’t hurt him, that was some reassurance.

Everything began to feel fuzzy, as if he weren’t real. Nothing he touched felt there, like he was distant, incredibly far away.  
But at least he didn’t have to think...

Tubbo didn’t want to think.

To put it simply;

Schlatt was angry.

Anger was a normal emotion, but blood thirsty anger was something he had never had to deal with before, never in his god damn life had he thought about squeezing someone’s neck so hard their head popped.

But right now, killing someone was all he could think about as his gaze fell over to Tubbo, who was in Ranboo’s arms, both the boys fast asleep.  
He was glad they were able to sleep after such a traumatising event, though they must of felt exhausted after it, so it wasn’t such a surprise when both the boys passed flat out.

He and Connor were only meant to take out the few zombies around, then someone had put a gun to his head, and they were dragged away... He had told Henry to sit, and the dog had, thankfully, obeyed.  
They had to go back and find him after, and he was a whining barking mess, distressed at being alone for so long.

The dog was currently sat beside the two sleeping children, his pose looking surprisingly stoic for a dog.

They managed to make a small camp in the woods, using some discarded wires and tin cans to wrap around the trees, therefore alerting them if danger came near.  
Schlatt hadn’t given them everything, watching as Fundy wolfed down a can of beans, the sauce all over his mouth and nose, babbling away and discussing the importance of food to his teddy bears.

As well as the soft pink love heart bear that Ranboo had picked out.

He was surprised that the kid seemed so... Okay. That he wasn’t shaking with fear or bawling his eyes out or throwing up, and it genuinely concerned him how calm he was.  
Of course, Schlatt was relieved he wasn’t terrified out of his mind, but it was confusing.

His attention moved from the kids, towards Connor, who was sat beside him, hands out over the fire, a permanent scowl on his face.  
Connor hadn’t spoken much, and it didn’t really surprise him. The bastards had insulted him and spat on him like he were nothing. 

Then beat his best friend and... Acted disgustingly inappropriate towards the kids they had sworn to protect.

Then beaten one of them and...

He had a whole body shudder, the guilt sinking in about the child.

Connor was still fidgeting.

Schlatt sighed, “It’s— It’s eating away at you. What are you thinking man? Your tapping is starting to piss me off.”

“They’re alive,” he stated.

“They are.”

“Which means they could come back,” Connor said even quiter, trying not to draw the attention of Fundy, nor wake up Tubbo and Ranboo.  
“You heard them! They’re fucking predators! Cannibals too, did you see that shit?! Did you hear that shit! A kid?”

Schlatt pinched his brows together, “Considering there were very real human bones around, I’m not surpirsed.” 

The brunette shuddered, groaning in disgust, falling quiet.

He closed in on himself, fiddling with his fingers, “Man I... I’m not good at this shit, but I think I’m scared.”

He was too.

“Pussy,” he scoffed, not knowing what to say, because he most definitely wasn’t going to admit he was terrified that those freaks would come and kill him and Connor, then do... Whatever, to the kids.

He felt himself beginning to grow warm, the rage bubbling up inside of him, and it took a lot in him to keep himself from screaming and hitting just everything around him.

“Why’d you give up that kid, man? He wasn’t even ten, that... Fuck...”

He had a plan.

“It was easier than losing three. I had to make the choice I made.”

“You aren’t going to be able to sleep, Schlatt, I know you.”

“I will.”

He won’t.

He has a plan.

Connor frowned, glancing over to the children, sighing softly, “Oi, Fundy, come here kiddo, it’s bedtime.”

Schlatt watched silently as Connor heaved Fundy up, laying him down beside Ranboo and Tubbo, chuckling away as Fundy scrambled inbetween them, putting the teddy bears into Ranboo’s arms. Then wrapping himself around them.  
Connor also turned on his side, closing his eyes.

He volunteered to take the first watch.

Schlatt waited two hours, closing his eyes.

He wanted blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn’t read this chapter, which is perfectly okay, here it is summed up!  
> (just a warning, I am not very good at summaries, so bare with me!)  
> {}{}{}{}
> 
> \- A man holds Tubbo away from Ranboo and Fundy, pretty much threatening him and making creepy comments.  
> \- Ranboo lies about their names when the stranger asks, and both Fundy and Ranboo get upset.  
> \- it’s revealed that there isn’t just one of them, a whole group of men (not mentioned, but it is 8-10 people), and Schlatt and Connor are also taken captive.  
> \- Schlatt gets beaten up after the leader is upset for Schlatt being so rude and angry about him hurting Tubbo and the other boys, the leader making jokes about eating Tubbo.  
> \- The group are taken to the Cannibals place, all tied up aside from Ranboo and Fundy, and Tubbo is pretty much dissociating the whole time. They have their outer clothing (like coats, shoes, cardigans/sweaters) removed, and when one of them tries to take Ranboo’s mask, Ranboo bites them  
> \- Ranboo gets beaten up pretty badly, and the cannibals are just eating some (human) meat while that goes on, ignoring Ranboo’s crying  
> \- The leader tells Tubbo that he knows they were lying about their names as it was obvious, pretty much hinting to the fact that he had been watching them a while  
> \- Schlatt and The Leader make a deal: Free him and their boys in exchange for information on a child nearby and all their supplies, which Schlatt agrees with, telling the leader exactly where the kid is.  
> \- They all leave he cannibals without anything, setting up camp away from the area. Tubbo and Ranboo fast asleep while Connor and Schlatt talk, where Connor admits he’s scared.  
> \- Schlatt has a plan, and when everyone else is asleep, he decides ‘he wants blood’
> 
> (HOPEFULLY I DID NOT MISS ANYTHING OUT! Remember, you are safe, everyone is safe, everything will be okay <3  
> this isn’t real, this is fanfiction)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Sometimes, you really need to let that bloodthirst take over you... And Schlatt is ready to ruin someone’s life.
> 
> (CHECK NOTES)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER ARE HINTED AT PAST S*XUAL ASS*ULT, CHILD ABUSE, MENTIONED PEDOPHILE, GRAPHIC MURDER AND TORTURE.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE STAY SAFE, DO NOT READ IF THESE ARE POTENTIAL TRIGGERS. THERE WILL BE A BRIEF DESCRIPTION IN END NOTES IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ!
> 
> STAY SAFE ^_^ <3
> 
> Also, join our discord if you haven’t already and want to share theories or discuss with other fans!  
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer

Foolish knew something was wrong the minute he began retreating back to his treehouse.

He may be little, but he was very aware of his surroundings. He had to be, after all. He lived outside in dangerous territory, and grown used to the silence that came with it.  
Foolish could notice even the smallest changes in the area, like when there are less zombies, or more zombies. When someone has picked something up or moved something.

If someone had been around.

He knew there were people around, it was hard to not know, they were all so loud, but at least it had drawn the scary monsters away from him and his treehouse.  
The treehouse was the only safe space he had, he even turned down two nice people with a house for it.

Tightening his grip around Foolish junior, he narrowed his eyes towards the rustling in the bushes, stopping in his tracks, deciding it was better to stay completely still and silent.  
His brown eyes widened slightly as he spotted a glint of light, at first, confused.

But then he realised it was a knife, a man smiling right at him.

Now, the seven year old was never usually one to run away. Most of the time, he had plans, traps, ways to escape without needing to run for his life.  
But never had he had to deal with strangers. With adults.  
Meeting the men in the suit and onesie was different, because they were really nice and gave him food and water.

These people just looked scary.

They had weapons too.

“Oh hey kid,” the greasy looking man stood up, holding his hands out like he was trying to tame a wild animal, which Foolish almost giggled at, instead, electing to take a step back.

“Oh! Don’t worry, son, we aren’t a danger to you! Not at all... In fact, we saw you out here, and this isn’t a place for little angels like you to be all alone now, is it?”

He remembered when his mom had told him about stranger danger.

Foolish smiled, “I’m not alone! My daddy will be back soon!” 

The person blinked, cocking their head slightly, “Huh? You dad? What does he look like? Maybe we can help you find him!” He offered, motioning to the man beside him, who nodded in agreement, and if Foolish didn’t know any better, he would of believed them.

Thinking, he fiddled with his duck plushy.

His dad was a monster, so he had to make something up.

Pinching his brows together, he stuttered slightly “He... Has brown hair... And he wears a suit... And... And he talks like this—“ he put on a New York accent, smiling brightly, “He’s pretty funny.”

By the looks of the man’s face, he didn’t seem to care, which led to him taking yet another step back, beginning to chew on his fingernails as his eyes darted up to his treehouse, returning his gaze to the stranger, who flashed him another kind smile, holding out his hand, which Foolish noted to himself was bandaged.

He cleared his throat, “My name is Joel, I promise we don’t wanna hurt’cha, you should come with us, there’s— there’s a safe place we stay at, ‘round here.”

Foolish grinned, “No thank you!” He chirped, turning to run, just to make impact to someone else, falling on his ass and looking up to meet eyes with another stranger, the sudden hit of panic rising in his chest.

“You’re making this difficult.” The voice behind him piped up, grabbing him by his shoulder, in which Foolish grabbed his hand tightly, digging his nails into the bandages and taking out his screwdriver, stabbing it into the man in front’s leg.

They both cried out in pain, giving him the chance to sneak out between their legs, scrambling to his feet and speeding off, the complete opposite direction of his treehouse.

He wasn’t slow, nor was he fast, but he knew he could outrun them if he tried hard enough.  
Foolish was always good at outrunning things, mainly because he was small and could get into small spaces, which other people could not.  
He zigzagged between zombies, holding on tightly to his screwdriver and duck plush, hyperventilating as he tried to figure out where to go to next.

As the little boy made a U turn, he let out a panicked scream as he ran right into a zombie, a gunshot making him jump straight out of his skin, seeing the stranger out of the corner of his eye.

The zombie dropped dead in front of him, hitting the floor with a thud, and Foolish was too surprised by the loud bang to notice that Joel had caught up with him.

“You made it too difficult on yourself.”

Schlatt was calm.

The calmest he had ever been, actually, as he stared at the gas canister being held by himself, his footsteps quiet thanks to the lack of shoes. The only positive thing that had came out of them being robbed, was the fact he was much quieter now.

Although the amount of gross blood, gore or just... Things he didn’t want to think about, was creepy.

He didn’t want to leave them alone back at their camp, but to do this, he had to do it all by himself. He couldn’t risk giving more trauma to those poor children, nor could he risk Connor going through his PTSD.  
Schlatt was strong enough to do this alone, and he couldn’t give less of a shit about his own trauma.

A sprinkle of spice to his memories, he called it.

Trauma made him stronger, besides, he wasn’t that affected by it. Or at least, that’s what he told himself everyday.  
Yeah.  
He became an alcoholic just because he wanted to.  
He tried to end his life because he wanted to.  
He’s scared of touch because he just was.

Schlatt was definitely not afraid of people.

He had stopped by Foolish’s treehouse, just to see that he wasn’t there, which pretty much fed his theory that they had moved fast and snatched the boy up as soon as Schlatt and the others had left, especially when he found the boy’s plush on the floor, cradling it in his hands carefully, as if it were a baby itself.

It was his fault that the kid had been kidnapped and was now being held by some creeps who god knows what they would do to him.  
So it was his job to save him and get revenge.

The man was calm.

But that definitely wasn’t going to last long, as he followed the bloody trail, whistling as he walked, keeping his posture straight. 

The street was empty, littered with trash and discarded corpses, some still walking, growling as he walked past them with not a single care in the world.

The teen walked down the street, blood coating his hands and face as he stumbled, gasping and shaking.

‘Mom... Mom...’ he whispered, a car screeching to a halt a few feet ahead of him, his whole body shuddering at the red and blue flashing lights. 

Schlatt snuck through the entrance, tightening his grip on the canister, taking a deep breath as he lifted the mask over his face.  
He had stopped by an abandoned store quickly to grab some warmer clothing for himself so he could do this, and a mask would help in this case, adjusting it around his chin. 

Crouching behind a box as soon as he got close, he caught sight of the one kept on watch.

He paced to and fro, for some reason, checking out his gun.  
Reloading and unloading it, humming to himself.

“Fuckin’ pieces of shit leaving me to keep watch...” he scoffed, closing his eyes, stretching his arm slightly before rolling his head, looking towards a direction that Schlatt couldn’t fully see.  
“How about we play a game, little one?”

The words filled Schlatt with dread when he heard a small voice, too muffled to properly make it out.  
He waited until the man seemed to make his way off towards that direction before making a move, silent with his practical crawling.  
As he snuck into the room, he was pleased to see that all of the group, aside from the man strolling towards the little boy, were flat out asleep, most of them closely grouped together, but he could see the leader.

The one he REALLY wanted dead.

Was asleep in a corner by himself.

“Let’s play a game, Hm?” The man cooed to Foolish, crouching down in front of him, resting his hands on his lap.

Foolish didn’t look concerned, instead, more confused, quirking a brow up to his face, “What kind of game?” 

Schlatt managed to catch his eye, Foolish visibly relaxing, but keeping his gaze onto the man, to not alert him of Schlatt’s presence.  
“I know a lot of games! Like noughts and crosses and hide and seek and tag and—“

“Not one of those games,” the man’s voice fell to a whisper, putting a finger over his lips, “You gotta be quiet for this game...”

‘You gotta be quiet for this game, Schlatt...’

Foolish pressed his lips into a thin line, “Hm... I’m not very good at quiet games.”

“How about we both be quiet? You have to be quiet for this game.

“Yeah... Yeah you do,” Schlatt spoke in a hushed tone, covering the man’s mouth and nose with his hand, smirking

“Thankfully, I know just the right thing to shut you the fuck up.”

Immediately slicing the knife straight across his throat, relieved that Foolish seemed to have gotten the hint, squeezing his eyes closed before he could witness the slit throat.

Slowly, he lowered the man to the floor, but not before stabbing him in the eye and squeezing the blood from his throat.  
He wiped his hands on the corpse’s body, before quickly getting to untying Foolish, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Hey, hey... You alright kid? They touch you or anything?” He spoke quietly, his eyes burning in rage.

But Foolish instead smiled, “Hi goat.”

“Hi Foolish,” Schlatt chuckled, deep down glad that he still had his sweet sense of innocence, and it just reminded him of how fucked up this group was, “I need to... Get rid of these guys, alright? So can you go stand right by the door and face away, Hm? You’ve been through enough chaos tonight.”

He unattached the plush from his belt, handing it to Foolish, who gleamed in excitement as both his tool and his teddy Duck was put straight back into his arms. 

“Goat! You got him!” The child almost squealed, but Schlatt shushed him.

“Yeah, go cuddle your little duckie, Yuto—“ he froze, gulping, especially when Foolish’s eyes softened in confusion, especially when Schlatt raised his hand to ruffle his hair, “Just... Just go stand by the door. Don’t look, okay?”

“Alright,” he whispered, nodding as he got to his feet, tripping over but managing to catch himself, disappearing from sight, leaving Schlatt standing over the corpse.

Slowly, he uncapped the canister lid cringing at the smell as he lowered it, taking a look around.

He kept it in his grip as he made his round, taking the things that those sick fucks had stolen from them, leaving the kids clothes and his own, deciding they were already ruined and corrupted with the creeps touches, but he took their weapons and resources, as well as slipping on a pair of shoes.  
Their supplies were shoved deep into his bag, putting it beside Foolish, removing his mask and holding it out to the little boy, who brightened up as Schlatt rested a palm on his shoulder.

Schlatt huffed, “Christ kid, you are way too fucking trusting. I need to teach you some lessons—“

“You gave me a screwdriver! I needed it, so I trust you!” He squeaked, smiling so hard you would of thought his cheeks hurt.

He nodded, humming, “Y’know what? Good enough. Put the mask on kiddo, gonna start a fire. Don’t want you breathing in too much crap.”

Schlatt began pouring the petrol around, making sure it was spread evenly everywhere, getting it on the clothing of the men.  
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure this plan would work, and was pleasantly surprised that they hadn’t woken up by the liquid, a wide grin on his face as he waited, and not a single one of them began to stir.  
He spat on the one that had beaten Ranboo, narrowing his eyes towards him.

Oh.

Oh he was going to fucking die.

He managed to empty the whole canister, chuckling away to himself as he backed up against the wall, beside the sleeping leader.

He flicked up the lighter, throwing it, and his laughter became increasingly manic and crazed as the whole area the group of sleepy men had been in went up in flames, the room filling with screaming and terrified shouting, watching as some tried to roll around and pat out the flames, just ending up in the flames burning even brighter.

Schlatt’s chest hurt from how hard he was laughter, coughing into his hand as he wheezed with joy.

Relieved that these Fuckers were getting EXACTLY what they deserved.

“WHAT THE FUCK—“ the leader was now awake, shakily getting to his feet as he watched his men slowly fall victim to the flames, the fire reflecting in his eyes as he looked to Schlatt, instinctively beginning to try and get away from him.

But there was no way that would happen.

Schlatt whipped out the gun he had managed to keep, shooting the man in the leg, watching as he tumbled to the floor, striding over to him and kicking him, hard, in the groin.  
Slowly, he crouched down, the flames behind him as he stared down to the terrified man, who was still trying to back up, right until Schlatt dug his finger into the bullet wound, ripping a horrified gargle from the man’s throat, so full of pain he couldn’t get his words together.

“You really thought you could get away with hurting those kids? With threatening me?” Schlatt chuckled lowly, the light in his eyes gone as he gripped his hair tightly in his hands, a satisfying hiss leaving the freaks mouth.

“Please— please I— I didn’t mean—“

“You didn’t mean, what? You didn’t mean to find pleasure in threatening children? You didn’t mean to be a pedophile? You didn’t mean to beat a child, full well knowing there was potential your fucking buddy could of killed him?”

The man let out a whine, shaking his head, “I— I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING—“

“You touched my boy.”

Schlatt growled, digging his finger deeper into the wound, “How many fucking kids have you traumatised, huh, man? How many people were you going to keep hurting?... I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. You won’t be touching anyone ever a fucking gain.”

The leader tried to push Schlatt away, “He— He fuckin’ asked for it— looking like—“

Schlatt punched him again, his fist clashing with the man’s jaw, his pupils so small due to how god damn enraged he felt.

“See, I’ve beaten a lot of you assholes in my life, and you’re all the same, I found,” Schlatt spoke quietly, his eyes lowering onto the curled up man below him.

“You blame the victims. You blame everyone other than yourself because you know just how much of a monster you are,” he chuckles, “And I think we have enough monsters in this world, don’t you?”

He took another shot, this time, the gun pressed up right against his side, shooting and not even flinching at the agonized wailing that filled his ears, putting the gun down just to shove his hand into the gorey injury, the blood gushing out of the wound, oozing between his fingers, stretching it just to cause more harm and suffering.

The man shook his head violently, gasping and grabbing at Schlatt’s ankle with his bloody remains of fingers.

“Please— please—“ he begged desperately, watching with wide terrified eyes as Schlatt’s hand tightened it’s grip around the handle of his hatchet.

Schlatt tilted his head slightly, smiling.

“Begging me? That’s funny. Do me a favour and kiss my shoes, maybe I’ll change my mind.”

He dug his shoe into the mans mouth, chuckling as the weak little man cried, planting kisses all over his shoe, and Schlatt did absolutely nothing, just laughing at him with disappointment and humour.

“Ohh... You truly thought that’d change my mind. That’s such a shame that I do not give a complete shit.”

He froze up.

And that’s when Schlatt knew he had him exactly where he wanted, giving him a malicious scowl.

“In prison, people like you, you don’t get to get to be free. Although, I suppose cops weren’t always great, so many you would of... But the fellow prisoners? They definitely wouldn’t let you go free... You see, prick, pedo’s like you get beaten. Killed. The cops don’t give a shit! They wouldn’t of saved you!”

He sighed, “But since the world has gone to complete shit... There aren’t any cops to beat your ass, nor to send you to jail. But lucky for you...”

He lightly grazed his fingers against the blade of the hatchet, his eyes gleaming in excitement as he watched the man crumple beneath him.

“I’m going to send you to hell myself, and make sure to tell Satan I say hello, keep my seat warm for me so I can beat your ass over and over again.”

He didn’t hold back, slamming the hatchet into his chest, over.

And over.

And over.

Until the distressed and pained screaming died down, leaving him stood, drenched in blood.

Schlatt stood as still as a statue, letting the droplets of blood soak from his sleeve, hitting the ground.  
He raised his free hand, running the bloody fingers through his dark brown hair, taking a deep breath.

He slammed the hatchet into the corpse’s head, just for safety measure, before resting the weapon on his shoulder, glaring down at the corpse.

He spat.

“See you in hell, asshole.”

As Schlatt slammed the blade into his skull one last time, a flash in his head of a familiar figure caught him off guard, pausing in his movements.  
He stared as the droplets of blood ran down his arms, not letting go of the handle.

‘YOU AWFUL SON!’ His father had screamed, hitting him across the head, tumbling to the floor.

Schlatt had winced, trying to get onto his hands and knees, crawling away desperately, his heart pounding in his ears at the sound of the belt buckle.  
He spun around, putting his hands out, ‘Dad—‘

‘YOU PIECE OF FUCKIN’ SHIT! YOU TOLD ‘EM, DIDN’T YOU?’

‘I didn’t! I should of though!’ He hissed back, regretting it instantly as the belt made impact with his side, crying out in agony, curling in on himself.

His mother was in the corner of the room, tears streaked past her cheeks as she shakily got to her feet, coming on over to him, grabbing her husband by his arm, her eyes shining with tears.  
‘Please, he— he’s just a kid—‘

‘WHAT HAVE I SAID ABOUT INTERRUPTING ME?!’

It had gone by so fast, in one moment, his mother was on the floor, holding a bloody nose, and the next, Schlatt was sat on top of his dad, hitting and punching.  
His dad had choked him.  
Almost killing him.

His mother handed him the knife before Schlatt could even register what it was. 

His knuckles bruised and cut, blood splattered over the side of his face, and the weapon in his bloody vibrating hands.

“Schlatt?”

The little voice brought his attention towards the golden haired boy, who was staring at him wide-eyed, occasionally glancing down to the bloody mess beneath him.

“Kid— you shouldn’t look at this—“ he said quietly, yanking the weapon out of the corpse’s skull, electing to throw it on the floor, watching it slide in the blood.

“One got away,” Foolish spoke quietly.

He stared.

“Okay.” Schlatt stated, nodding slowly to himself as he looked down to the bloody mess.

You could barely even make out the fact that it had previously been a man, it looked more like guts and chunky meat, enough blood to fill a kiddy pool.

Slowly, he made his way over to Foolish, watching for any sort of reaction that Foolish wanted him to stay away, but the little boy looked way more concerned for him than scared, which was so insanely sweet, reaching his hand out to him, letting Schlatt take his much smaller hand into his.

He cleared his throat, “Want to... Do you wanna come back to our camp kid? I know you said you like being alone—“

“I think I’m done being on my adventure for now,” the little boy sighed quietly, “Can I come with you? And Foolish junior too.”

There was a long pause of silence.

Schlatt wanted to say no.  
It was hard enough having a little boy who reminded him of Yuto.  
Having another child with him would just be a reminder of what he could never have.

Ruffling his hair, he scooped him up into his arms, “Let’s go kiddo.”

As the child rested his head upon his shoulder, he pulled the bag of their supplies over the other one, leaving the room of flames, coughing occasionally as he made his way silently back down the hall, expertly avoiding the zombies, with not a single care in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IS THE SUMMARY FOR THIS CHAPTER IF YOU COULD NOT READ IT DUE TO TRIGGER WARNINGS! This will be the last super triggering chapter, so don’t worry ^_^
> 
> \- Chapter starts with Foolish returning to his treehouse, but notices something is off.  
> \- Joel is revealed to be watching him, one of the cannibals from last chapter, with some other men. Thankfully, Foolish is smart and doesn’t trust him.  
> \- they try to attack him and he runs, but gets caught anyway, not being fast enough.
> 
> \- Schlatt has picked up a canister of petrol and is on his way to the group of men, pissed off. Thinking about how his trauma ‘most definitely didn’t affect him’ which is obviously sarcasm.  
> \- Theres a flashed memory of Schlatt as teenager walking down the street crying for his mum, covered in blood as a police car pulls up. Flash ends.  
> \- There’s one person keeping watch, who makes creepy comments towards Foolish out or boredom, who doesn’t seem to be affected. Schlatt quickly and silently takes him out.  
> \- theres a phrase that triggers a memory of someone saying “You gotta be quiet for this game” to Schlatt. Flash ends.  
> \- Foolish is relieved to see Schlatt and have his plush returned. He goes to stand in the corner, away from Schlatt and the group so he can do what needs to be done.  
> \- Schlatt gets all their things back, aside from the clothes, putting them in a bag before pouring petrol all over the people and setting them on fire. Letting them all burn to death.  
> \- Schlatt talks to the leader, telling him how if it were a normal world, the justice system would fail them and he’d probably be free from the police, but even now there’s no jail. So he tells the leader that he will send him to Hell himself.  
> \- Schlatt beats the man to death.  
> \- there’s another flash of memories of Schlatt’s father hurting him and his mother, but his mother hands him a knife and while Schlatt is in a panicked state, he stabs his father.  
> \- memory ends.  
> \- Foolish tells Schlatt that one of the men escaped, but Schlatt is too buzzing with energy to care, more worried that he’s scared Foolish, but thankfully he is not afraid.  
> \- Foolish agrees to come with Schlatt to the camp, and in so, they both leave together. Leaving the building to burn down behind them.
> 
> HERE YOU GO! HOPEFULLY I DIDN’T LEAVE ANYTHING OUT! I tried to make it as brief as I could ^_^


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Sam needs to talk to Sapnap, and be a dad figure while he’s at it.  
> Meanwhile, Dream is at L’manberg, Wilbur and Techno need to hide. Fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SCARS, DEATH, IMPLIED CHILD DEATH AND DE-REALISATION TOWARDS THE END!
> 
> This is a very interesting chapter and I truly cannot wait to see your theories! Read end notes please ^_^

It had been an hour since he went to check on Tommy, and as he wandered around the community aimlessly, he decided he really did need to speak to Sapnap.

He had been holding it off, worried that maybe Sapnap would prefer to be left alone, that he was grieving and he needed space.  
But Sapnap knew where to get out, and Sam needed to know that. Sam needed to know so he can get Tommy out of here, just so he can’t be used against him anymore.

So Tommy doesn’t have to suffer anymore.

He finally gathered the courage, holding his breath as he made his way to the smaller building, admiring the flowers and plants growing all over the outside walls, remembering how, before Karl, Sapnap and Quackity moved to L’manberg, Karl had told them to never cut the plants, to let them grow and create something beautiful and magical.  
Reminiscing on how excited and giddy Quackity had been that day, how he thought it was impossible to fall more in love with a person.

He laughed sadly, clearing his throat.

Sam rapped his knuckles against Sapnap’s door, waiting until he heard a response, not wanting to walk in on anything. 

He wanted to make sure Sapnap was alright, after what happened.

Karl and Quackity were Sapnap’s reason for being alive, for being here.   
The amount of times that Sapnap’s mental health had declined and those boys were the ones to bring him back was too many to count, so Sam felt it was his job, as a parental figure, to go and check on him.

Especially since Bad couldn’t.

“Sapnap?” He said softly, putting his hand against the door, “Can... Can we talk, buddy?”

The tall man backed up when the door opened, revealing a guilty looking George, who immediately looks away from Sam’s eyes, ready to move off.  
Sam gently takes hold of his shoulder, almost missing the way George stilled as he did so, flashing him a look of concern.

He tried to ignore the scars on George’s arm, the deep lines that made out ‘MINE’, one that nobody dared to speak of.

“George...” he kept his voice low and quiet, as to not upset the already guilt ridden man, deeply wishing he could of saved George and Sapnap from Dream, “It’s not your fault, Georgie.”

Goggles took a sharp breath, grabbing him by his wrist, removing his hand off of his shoulder, adjusting his glasses and backing up.

He choked out a laugh, “You... Thanks Sam, but you’re wrong.”

Was all he said before he disappeared down the hall.  
Sam pretended he didn’t hear the man’s crying, for George’s sake. The younger was already embarrassed enough, and they both knew he wasn’t good at showing his emotions.

Sam didn’t bother to knock on the door again, pushing it open and taking a hesitant step in, pulling it shut behind him as he laid his eyes upon Sapnap’s limp figure on the bed.

He wasn’t surprised to see the boy curled up around a pillow, clutching it tightly to his chest, his hair a mess, completely untamed and not held back by his bandana.  
Sapnap’s face was red and puffy as he glanced up, confused as to who was coming in, shakily raising his hand to his face, wiping away his tears as he slowly sat up, holding the pillow close.

In that moment, Sapnap looked so small.

It reminded him that... He was still only nineteen. 

Karl, Sapnap and his darling son Quackity, they were only nineteen. They were children compared to him, yet they went through so much.   
Sapnap and Quackity have lost something major, and his son doesn’t even know yet.

Slowly, he walked over, planting himself down right on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms and lacing his fingers together, looking down, giving Sapnap the opportunity to speak or to stay quiet.

He chose to stay silent, staring at him all while keeping some distance between the two of them, and when Sam looked at him, he was reminded of an abandoned animal.

One that was lost, confused...

Scared.

“I won’t ask if you’re alright, because I’m sure that... That’s not what you need to hear right now,” he began, smoothing Sapnap’s hair out of his face, giving him an empathetic smile.  
“I’m... I’m so sorry, Sapnap. I’m so sorry Dream is so— So twisted and messed up—“

“He’s not—“ his voice cracked, yet he leant into Sam’s hand against his cheek, “He— He’s still Clay.”

“Sapnap... Son, I know you want to see the good in him, but he’s manipulating you. He doesn’t—... Sapnap, you aren’t doing well,” he whispered.

The black haired boy looked dull.  
As if the burning light his lovers gave him had finally flickered out.   
His eyes lacked the bright gleam, his voice monotone and hushed.

He winced, scrunching up his face, “Don’t... Don’t say that. Karl didn’t think he was a psychopath either, he— He just needs help, Sam.” He whined.

Sapnap was broken.

Sam was scared to find out whether or not he could piece him back together.

“Bad... Bad is back at L’manberg, Sapnap,” Sam tried a different approach, taking his hands into his, giving them a gentle squeeze, “I know Bad has made some... Difficult choices... But he loves you, trust me. Bad loves you so much, I’m sure he’s been beating himself up over all of this—“

“He didn’t stop Dream from doing so many bad things,” his voice was shaky, leeking with hurt, “He— He even helped. Remember that one group? The— the one with the kids?”

Sam frowned, shaking his head.

“Oh.”

“Sapnap—“ he hesitated, “What— What happened?”

There was a painfully long drawn out pause, Sapnap staring at him with an unreadable expression, one that Sam couldn’t tell whether or not it was dead or anger or embarrassment or, well, anything.   
But the younger man pulled his knees up to his chest closer, narrowing his eyes towards the floor as he let out a shaky breath.

“When... A few months ago, Dream— He— He sent a few of us out with him, to go scavenge and— well, you know, the usual I guess. I was excited because it was us, George, Bad and then Eret. They were forced to come with, Dream with his control over L’manberg and everything, but, they were good company for us, you know? Aside from Dream.”

“There was a group, by a— uh— abandoned military base. There were four or so kids, I can’t remember, but there were about ten adults. Dream wanted their stuff, so I suggested we bring them back to DSMP, because— because it was a good idea.”

Sapnap had a full body shudder, his bottom lip trembling,  
“I was apparently wrong. Dream... Dream told us to aim and just to— just to shoot.”

Tears were now streaming past his cheeks even faster, his breathing speeding up, shaky hands coming up to run through his hair.

“I—I didn’t want to hurt them— so— So I didn’t— but I heard them— i hear them all the time. Dad and Dream argued— Dad was angry, I remember that— but Dream won. He always won.”

Sam couldn’t ever even begin to understand what Sapnap had been through, because it was crystal clear that there was so much trauma hidden underneath, that, that was just the beginning.  
Unfortunately though, Sam was not close enough to the poor boy to get through to him. To get him to listen to him and convince him that he is not a bad person, that he is just a victim.

George and Sapnap were both victims.

Sam cleared his throat, gently wiping Sapnap’s tears, “Hey, kid, I... I have a plan. Sort of— It’s still a work in progress, but I need to know where you used to sneak out as a kid.”

The younger stiffened, looking at him in surprise, “How—“

“Schlatt. Schlatt knew.”

He gave a quiet ‘oh’, before nodding slowly, unhooking his hands from around his legs, lowering them and resting his palms on his bed, “There’s a sewer tunnel, right in the corner hidden under some bushes and crap. It’s pretty small, it’ll be a squeeze for any uh— big person. But the thing is it’s— it’s full of zombies, man.”

Sam blinked, “What? How?”

“Not sure. It’s just full of them, that’s why... That’s why we stopped using it,” his expression dropped, “Karl... Karl said it was too dangerous...”

“I see...” Sam fell quiet, lightly pinching his fingers together, furrowing his brows together, “Tommy is going to escape. He... He’ll need someone to go with him.”

Sapnap jumped slightly, quirking his head in surprise, “What?”

“Tommy can’t stay here. Neither can you, neither of you can, Sapnap. I can’t leave here, there are things I need to get done... I can’t keep him safe, but I know you can—“

“I’ve let George shoot him before, did you know that?” Sapnap frowned, “I didn’t try help him. George shot him and we left him.”

There was a brief second where Sam felt the rage beginning to bubble inside of him, ready to punch Sapnap and George straight in the jaw for hurting his baby brother.

But then he remembered; Sapnap and George were victims.

So instead, the green haired man cupped his cheek gently, giving him a small smile, “Sapnap. I trust you. Please, you can’t go back to L’manberg... But you can go to the Badlands.”

Sapnap’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Sam held a hand up.

“That place— Dream has never been there. Never. He has no idea where it is, it’s safe, and— And there will be a few people there... Rat is also there, you remember Rat?” he fights back the soft smile at the memory of the loud and annoying rascal.

“There’s something that I’ve been working on for... For two years, something I haven’t finished. I don’t know if I will ever be able to finish it.”

“Sam, you—“

He leant in, whispering into his ear, listening as Sapnap’s breath hitched at his words, before pulling back, staring at him worriedly.

“I don’t know if it works... Dream knows it exists, that’s one of the reasons I’m here. He doesn’t want me to finish it, because then, somehow, he’s convinced it’ll ruin his plans.”

The younger man looked confused, the tears beginning to dry on his cheeks as he tilted his head slightly, “... Why— Why are you telling me this?”

Sam stayed blank, “Because I know you’ll find a way to figure things out if I can’t.”

His face softened, slowly nodding in acceptance as Sam removed his hands, the younger moving a bit back, wrapping his arms around himself and letting out a shaky breath.

“Now... Now please, when we get the chance, will... Will you please get Tommy out of here?”  
Of course, he knew he was begging. But Sam wasn’t ashemed to beg, not when it was for something so insanely important. 

Sapnap looked worried, digging his nails into his arms as he thought, “I... I can’t leave Quackity, Sam. He— He’s already lost so much man, we both have...”

“So don’t let Dream take you away from him too.”

He froze at that.

“He’s—... He’s a very important kid, Sapnap. He doesn’t deserve to suffer through all of this.”

He waited, holding his breath as he watched the cogs turn in Sapnap’s head, waiting for a nod, head shake or a smile or just— any sign of a yes or no answer.

Finally, Sapnap closed his eyes, sighing loudly.

“I don’t know. But... But I’ll try. But— But what about Quackity? What’ll happen to him?”

“I... I think I have a plan... But for now, the main plan is to get you and Tommy out of here. What Dream had planned for him— I don’t even want to think about it.” He scowled towards nothing really, thinking about all the horrible things he had overheard and been told.

“You don’t deserve to stay here longer than you have to be. The plan is going to take some time, we have to find the right place and time to act on it, and I still need to figure some things out with... With others. I need to make sure Dream doesn’t get to him.”

Sapnap nodded, rubbing at his face to get rid of the tear tracks, sniffling, “Uh huh. Good— good idea,” he whispered.

There was a knock on the door, startling the both of them. Sam immediately jumping to his feet as the door opened, Punz peeking in with a harsh glare on his face, eyeing Sam suspiciously, before turning his attention to Sapnap.

“Dream wanted you to clean out the stables while he’s gone. Tommy will be helping you,” he snapped, and Sam could see Tommy standing behind him, swaying slightly, his eyes barely open.  
The poor kid looked exhausted.

But Sapnap nodded once more, sending Sam a look, “Bye Sam.”

“Goodbye Sapnap.”

As the door slammed shut, he could hear Tommy’s mumbled curse words directed towards Punz, and he felt a small smile on his lips.  
Glad that he still had his sparkle.

Jack Manifold was jogging towards them now, waving his arms like crazy, a terrified expression on his face.  
“GO!”

“GO GO— DREAM’S HERE MAN— YOU GOTTA HIDE YOU AND YOUR BROTHER!”

Quackity gave Technoblade a harsh shove, and he frowned, at first a bit offended by the shove, but then the words actually ran through his head, his skin paling as he immediately began running back towards his home, not minding that Quackity was accompanying him.

He opened the door quickly, closing it behind him as he carefully made his way to Wilbur’s bedroom, throwing open the door to see his twin sat on the edge of the bed, shakily holding his guitar, his brows pinched together and face red with annoyance.  
Wilbur seemed to be completely focused on something, and Techno at first glance couldn’t see he was staring right at his bandaged hand.

The brunette glanced up, ready to yell at him to disrupting him, caught off guard by Techno’s stern expression, suddenly shifting to a very worried expression

“... Tech?”

“Dream’s here, we need to go,”

He explained briefly, immediately prying the guitar from his hands and shoving it under the bed, offering Wilbur his hand, forgetting that he couldn’t take it, and instead pulling him, helping him get to his feet, flinching when Wilbur hissed in pain, helping to keep him upright.  
He felt so bad his poor twin was still recovering from his injuries.  
As was he, but Techno always healed pretty fast from injuries.

Quackity joined in on helping Wilbur, putting one of his arms around his neck, Techno doing the same for his other. 

“What?— Tommy!—“ Wilbur began to freak out, “We need to get Tommy—“

“Tommy isn’t gonna be with him, Wil, we need to get out of here and fucking fast!”

Techno didn’t want to admit he was terrified, but this was one of the most dangerous situations to be in.

He and Wilbur were meant to be dead. Dream had no idea they lived, and he wasn’t sure what the freak would do if he found out they did.

They knew exactly what Dream was capable of.

He had already proved how strong he was.

Wilbur pinched his brows together, “No— No we have to fucking kill him, Tech— He’s got Tommy, we need to ki—“

Techno smacked his head lightly, shooting him a stern glare, “Put your head on straight, alright? We haven’t got time to be blood thirsty, and as much as I want to, we aren’t going to be able to kill him if he kills us first,” he hissed at him, leading him out towards the door.

Quackity backed up into them as they reached the front door, Quackity opening it and then immediately panicking and closing it, spinning around, “He— He’s right outside,” he whispered.

The pinkette felt his heard plummet, tightening his grip on Wilbur and letting out a shaky breath, looking around, “Alright— Alright— Upstairs, upstairs.”

He began to lead Wilbur back towards the stairs, scooping his twin up into his arms to prevent him from exhausting himself, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he felt Wilbur begin to shake.  
His brother was traumatised, as much as he tried to hide it and not speak about it. 

The trauma was very real.

Wilbur clung to Techno, his eyes wide as he stared at him, shaking his head, “Don’t— don’t let go.”

“Okay,” Techno whispered, holding onto his brother tightly as he silently shut the door, pressing himself up against it, listening.

He tried to pretend he couldn’t feel Wilbur’s shaking, but it was making him incredibly angry.  
He wanted to kill Dream. He wanted to put him through the exact same pain he put Wilbur through— That he put their whole family through.  
For separating them from Tubbo, Fundy and Tommy.

“Tech, is— is this actually happening?”

The pinkette blinked, tilting his head slightly, “Heh?”

“Is— Is Dream actually here?” He asked quietly, “I... I don’t feel real, Techno.”

Technoblade nodded, a bit confused by the question, but answering nonetheless, “He... He is. It’s okay. Don’t worry, we... Quackity will distract him, then we can get— Wilbur, don’t do that—“

He snatched Wilbur by the wrist, glaring at him as he spotted the blood dripping down his wrist, staring at each other, before Techno let out a heavy sigh, closing his hands over Wilbur’s bloody hand, tutting.

“You opened your wound, you idiot.”

Wilbur said nothing.

As he stared at the wound, it made him think.

Where was their dad?

His brother seemed to be thinking the same thing, except fear as clear as day on his face as he tightened his shivering grasp on Technoblade, letting out a childish whimper, “Dad’s dead, isn’t he?”

“No. No he’s... He’s probably hiding.”

“He died ages ago...”

Oh.

“Quackity.”

He jolted up, his eyes locking onto Dream who was making his way straight towards the house.  
A terrified looking Eret behind him, their sunglasses off revealing their blind eye, slowly raising a finger to his lip.

Thank god, Eret hadn’t told him that they were still here.

“Dream,” he snapped.

“We need to talk, mind if I come in?” He asked, his voice bittersweet as he adjusted his mask, “We have some... Things to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! As you can clearly see, I haven’t updated in a few days!
> 
> Do not worry, I am not getting bored of this fic or anything; I have really important exams coming up, so chapters will be sort of delayed for a little! I am very sorry v_v I know you all really enjoyed the chapters every other day, but it is a bit much with my revision!
> 
> Thank you for all the support, I do not plan on ending this series any time soon ^_*
> 
> We do have a discord, I am pretty active in! Share your theories, headcanons and sometimes, I share hints to what’s to come!   
> https://discord.gg/PXu98hEqer


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU}
> 
> Quackity hates Dream.  
> Wilbur isn’t... Real?
> 
> (Read notes)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR DISSOCIATION AND UNINTENDED SELF HARM (Not aware he is doing it) AS WELL AS PANIC ATTACKS. STAY SAFE!
> 
> This chapter gets deeper towards the end, but this and the next chapter will be the last SUPER angsty for now. Downtime is necessary for our favourite people, so do not worry! ^_^ Soon I’ll be back to updating every other day. Thank you for being so patient everyone!
> 
> Also I am so sorry this chapter may seem a little bit all over the place. Unfortunately, someone in my life has passed away and I am very unsure of how to react towards it. Don’t worry! I am okay, just confused.  
> Thank you <3

Quackity stepped back, motioning for Dream to step in, watching as Eret lingered behind, until being ushered forward by the masked man, quickly following inside.

He could already tell this wasn’t going to end well, purely by the fact that Eret was sweating profusely, their hands shaking by their side, fists clenched tightly.

Silently, he shut the door behind them, watching as Dream took a few step inside, scanning the area and letting out a low hum, nodding.

The air was thick with uncomfort, and he found himself beginning to sweat, gulping quietly, his leg bouncing slightly, antsy.  
Dream never came round unless he, one, wanted something, or two, wanted SOMEONE.

As far as he was concerned, the only person he would want to take would be Hannah. But Dream didn’t seem interested in her right now, not at all. He usually got business done quickly, so it was something to do with him and Eret, not Hannah.  
He was sort of relieved the poor woman didn’t have to deal with this bitch.

“So, this is where Wilbur and his friends stayed, Hm?” He asked, “You jumped here pretty fast, Quackity.”

“Free space. Besides I— I originally wanted this house anyway, but it was still getting fixed up. Now I can actually move here.”

Dream nodded, quiet as he turned to face him, pulling his mask up, resting it ontop of his head as he watched Quackity’s face, and his cheeks ached from keeping it as blank as possible, unreadable.

He knew the masked bitch was good at getting his own way, but he wasn’t going to leak that Wilbur and Technoblade were upstairs—

Oh shit, they were upstairs.

Technoblade and Wilbur were upstairs, and Dream, who had tried to get them killed, was right in front of him.

Did he know they were here?  
Surely it was just a coincidence that he wanted to go and see Quackity, that he brought them up...  
No, it can’t have been a coincidence, Dream is an intelligent man, as much as he hated to admit it, Dream was smart.  
Probably smarter than him.  
Which means he might have already figured out Wilbur and Techno lived.

Eret cleared their throat, stepping forward, “Tea? Coffee? Water?” They asked quietly.

“You know what? Let’s have tea, I haven’t had that in a while. Sapnap steal it all the time,” he chuckles, “Nick is such an idiot, always taking and taking...”

Quackity shifted uncomfortably.

“I have some things I’d like to talk to you and Eret about. Of course, I know you aren’t necessarily the leaders... I am, but I thought since you two do the most around here, I’d talk to you two,” Dream said quietly, eyeing the both of them.

Eret gulped, “Niki... Niki is also—“

“Go do something useful, be quick with it,” the masked man’s voice fell monotone, watching as Eret quickly skidaddled out of the room, disappearing into the kitchen.

Shaking, Quackity shifted, leaning against the wall as he snaked his arm around himself, watching Dream walk past, planting himself onto the couch, a calm and unnerving smile plastered on his lips, his green eyes gleaming upon noticing just how uncomfortable Quackity was.

He hated how easily the man had control over him.

Hated that Karl and Sapnap were stuck under his thumb like an insect, that even after so long of Quackity trying to help Sapnap, he still was under the manipulation and horrors of Dream.

If he could just up and run away with those two, like they had planned all those years ago, then he would.  
Maybe, when Sapnap and Karl are allowed to come back, they can all leave this shit hole.   
Find a new place to live, far away, alone. Where nobody can find them, hurt them... Touch them.

He’d never have to stay up all night holding a sobbing Sapnap again.  
Because they’d be safe, without another worry... The only concern being zombies.  
Surprisingly, he missed the times where his only fear was being bitten.   
Now it was watching his loved ones be shot or beaten to death.

Watching Sapnap’s mental health deteriorate...  
Karl staying just to try and find out more routes to go and get supplies after DSMP took most of them...   
Watching Eret grow more and more exhausted every day.

“It’s a nice place, I’m not surprised you took it up,” Dream eased into conversation as he took the mug of tea out of Eret’s grasp, thanking him quietly and taking a whiff of it, “Lavender?”

“Niki likes lavender,” they said softly, “She— She found it last week—“ 

“Not exactly my type, but thank you anyway,” the Leader shrugged, holding it close as he sat up straight, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as Eret took a seat opposite him, folding their hands in their lap,  
“Must of been difficult moving in. With one arm and everything.”

He frowned, catching the sight of Eret seething in the corner of his eye, tension building up in their shoulders, shifting nervously, looking up towards him, then returning back to Dream.

“Niki helped, as did Purpled,” They spoke calmly, trying to keep their stance strong and defensive, but slipping as Dream snapped his head towards them.

He quirked a brow, “Purpled helped? Last time I checked, the boy didn’t help anyone. Ever. Mostly kept to himself.”

“We’ve been working a lot with him. He... He was quite close to Tubbo and Tommy, so after they uh— Left,” they shrugged, “I suppose he wanted to find some company in others. He felt lonely.”

“Understandable, after all, he is a child. I’m not surprised he went crawling to you,” Dream smirked.

“The fuck is that meant to mean?” Quackity snapped.

“Nothing. I just mean you seem to pick up... A lot of damaged people. Sapnap, Karl... The list goes on. If I were to guess, it’s because you’re so broken that you need to focus on fixing others to make up an excuse for why you can’t fix yourself.”

Right.

Of course he would hit the nail on the head.

“But anyways... You guys aren’t providing for us enough,” Immediately, it moved to business, the smile dropping completely from Dream’s face that it was almost comical, “We ask for half your storage, but the last pick up it was quarter.”

Eret scoffed, rubbing their temple, “Dream. We don’t have enough to half our supplies with your community, if we did, don’t you think we would of done so already?”

“Does it look like I care if you have enough for yourselves?”

Big Q barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes, “Course! You don’t give a fuck about anyone! Do you even have a heart?”

“I have two arms, that’s good enough for me,” the childish reply came, a satisfied smirk on Dreams face.

He felt a tad bit betrayed at Eret holding back a laugh, although it was a bit of a shock reply, so he sort of understood.

“You took in five strangers, including a baby. and you’re not surprised that you have less supplies? You’re an idiot. Send some people out for more. Actually—“ he smiled, “I’ll take Purpled, Jack and Niki with me, and I’ll be kind enough to help them gather some resources for you—“

Eret was immediately on their feet, “No.”

“No?”

“No. You will not be going anywhere near Purpled.”

Dream stared.

Quackity did nothing, instead, just watching as Dream slowly stood up, and although Eret towered over him, you could clearly see who had more power, watching as the masked man cleared his throat, cocking his head slightly, his expression darkening.

“I’m going to repeat this again. I WILL—“ he emphasised his words, “Be taking Purpled, Jack and Niki. We WILL be going to gather resources, and YOU WILL let us do so.”

He watched as Dream invaded Eret’s personal space, and although he had seen Eret angry before, he had never seen them mad like this.  
Eret was vibrating with fury, red in the face as he let out a deep and shaky breath, and if looks could kill...

“Let me go with them, you clearly don’t have any time. I will go with them, and you can return to whatever you are busy doing.”

Quackity suddenly paused.

If Dream was gone, then they had the chance...

He could get Karl back. He could get Sapnap out of there. They could run away, they could finally be safe.

He had to do this. He was only a little sorry for Purpled.

“How— Eret, you know what? Let him.”

The taller person immediately shot a horririfed glance his way, “What?”

“If he wants to go collect his own resources, let him. I mean, it’s up to him isn’t it? He can fuckin’ do it himself. Jack and Niki can handle themselves, and well, he’ll have to deal with Purpled’s running off.”

“PURPLED HAS NEVER BEEN ON A RUN BEFORE,” Eret practically roared, slamming their fist against the wall, “YOU’RE ACTING FOOLISH! PURPLED IS SIXTEEN—“

“The kid’s been on one run before, and he’s been out on his own before, for a long time. He’s killed a person before. A living person,” Dream chirped casually, “I watched him. Seventeen times he shot him, sheesh!”

The room fell silent, aside from Dreams quiet chuckling, followed by a muffled sneeze, immediately grabbing Dream’s attention.  
On the inside, Quackity was screaming and punching the air, wanting to just scream so loud that his own eardrums burst.   
The masked man glanced towards the roof, quirking a brow and then returning his gaze towards Quackity, nodding towards him, pointing up.

He shrugged, “No idea. Might be Purpled. He sneaks around a lot. You know him more than us, after all.” Sarcasm seeped through his words, but the other seemed to either not notice, or just simply not mind.

Dream smiled, clasping his hands together, “Perfect! Let’s go grab him then. We can leave immediately, as soon as we grab Purpled.”

He was so stupid holy fuck.

Why did he just do that.

Internally, he facepalmed as he led Dream out of the room, clearing his throat, speaking a little louder, “Yeah! Aha, let’s hope the little shit is upstairs!”

Praying silently that Wilbur and Technoblade heard him.

Those men had been through enough, and he didn’t exactly want anyone to... To be punished.   
Especially not when it could be Karl or Sapnap, who were already in Dream’s custody. 

He had no idea what he would do if something happened to them.

Technoblade was staring at him like he had seen a ghost, gulping slowly as he tried to piece the puzzle pieces together, unsure of what the fuck to do.  
He was usually great at helping his twin, at knowing exactly what he needed.

This was the first time, the very first time, he was genuinely lost.

Wilbur was hyperventilating, his hands shaking so bad all he could think about was how if he was holding a cup of milk, it would probably become a milkshake.

He let out a panicked laugh at that, exhaling loudly, snapping his head back up to Technoblade, who looked equally, if not more, panicked.   
Never had he ever felt like this.

Nothing felt real.

Not a single thing, even when he grabbed at himself, dug his nails so hard into his skin that he bled, scratched at himself till all he saw was red.  
His skin was numb, everything felt numb.

Was he even here?

Or was this an afterlife? A hellish afterlife?

He actually felt as if he was walking on air, like he wasn’t here no matter how much pain he inflicted on himself, watching the blood run through his fingers and down his arms, staring, his pupils dilated as he stared.  
Techno was shaking him lightly, but when he tried to pay attention and listen, everything felt so far away, his own voice nothing but white noise.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” He whispered.

Technoblade shook his head, grabbing his face, whispering, “Wil, Wil— You’re— You’re dissociating right now— you gotta stay with me, Wil. Can you feel this?”

He was aware of a light touch against his cheek, feeling warm, comforting, finding himself leaning into the touch, letting out a shaky breath, choking back a sob.  
It was so nice, so nice.  
A hand, he knew that, pressed against his cold skin...

Cold skin... 

Corpses have cold skin.

He was dead.

Oh god he was dead, he was dead— he can’t find Tubbo— He left Fundy behind— he can’t save Tommy—

“You’re real, you’re real,” He murmured to him, “Right now— Right now I’m talking to you in uh, in the bathroom. Look, look, touch this!”

Something wet ran cold against his face, the feeling soft yet uncomfortable all at the same time, raising a shaky hand to feel a damp towel, dripping with water onto the floor, creating a small puddle beneath his feet. 

Water.

Water was good.

Water was something... 

“I’m breathing right now— I’m here, Wilbur, you’re here. Fuck. This is me, not your imagination, this is actually Technoblade Watson, my favourite colour is pink, I like swords and reading— my favourite— my favourite book is called The Art Of War, I used to do violin lessons. Remember when you wanted to learn one time and when you tried, you hated it so you gave up immediately?”

Wilbur could barely make out his twin’s voice, his legs buckling beneath him, almost falling, grinding his teeth together as Techno caught him halfway, both of them sliding to the floor.  
His eyes met soft and worried brown-red ones, melting under the gentle touches of his twin, letting out a shaky breath.

“I want dad,” he choked out.

“I know, I know, Wil, you’re okay. He’s okay too, he lived! You— I’m not good at this Wilbur,” the pinkette sighed, cringing at himself.

How did his dad survive? There was no way that was possible, there was absolutely no way he actually lived.  
There were so many zombies, so much screaming and that gunshot and— and—

And Dream’s laugh.

And The glass, and Tommy’s crying and the blood and the screaming, and the crying, the loudness— it was so loud— it was so loud— it was so loud—

Wilbur was crying even harder now, his hand smothering his own mouth, his shoulders quaking with each sob that ripped from the back of his throat, tears streaming past his cheeks.  
Every touch felt like poison, like toxicity, it felt like Dream was hurting him all over again. Like she—

‘Don’t be a baby,’ Sally had snapped, immediately apologising and smothering him with kisses.

“Don’t hurt me— don’t hurt, Tommy please— Please don’t take my family—“ he wailed, unsure of when it had happened, but he was now yanked into Techno’s arms, clinging to him desperately, letting out desperate muffled sobs into his chest.

His older brother was holding him tightly, not letting go.

He nodded, “Nobody’s gonna touch you, Wilbur. We’re gonna go find dad, okay? We’re gonna find dad. When we find him, your brain will calm down a little, okay? It’s gonna hurt, I gotta climb through the window, Alright?”

His words were nothing but mush in Wilbur’s mind, his thoughts running a mile a second as he began to peel at the cuts on his hands, stopping once Techno slapped his palms away gently, pulling his arms around his neck as he was hoisted onto his back, holding him close.  
It reminded him of when he was little and had hurt his leg one day while playing with him in the garden.

Technoblade had carried him inside, and he didn’t make fun of him for crying, he just kept saying it would be okay.

Exactly like this situation.

“I didn’t mean to,” Wilbur sobbed softly, “don’t tell mum— don’t tell them—“ 

“I’m not gonna tell them,” Technoblade went along with it, knowing there wasn’t too much he could do yet, not until they got out of the house, “Nobody’s telling anyone anythin’, alright?”

“Tech, please don’t tell,” his voice broke.

“I’m not gonna tell.”

When Wilbur sneezed, Technoblade didn’t panic too much, instead, throwing open the window, climbing out with a tight grip on Wilbur, relieved that he himself healed fast so it didn’t hurt too bad when he climbed.  
Apologising over and over as he moved too fast, Wilbur letting out pained whimpers and cries.

Wilbur just clung to him desperately.

Everything was fake.

Nothing was real.

Did reality even matter?

The pinkette quickly rushed around the corner, hiding behind some boxes half empty with used and old supplies, sinking down to his ass as he held Wilbur protectively to his chest.  
The brunette relaxing at the sound of Techno’s rushing heartbeat against his ear, letting out a shuddery breath.

His brother was scared, and so was he, it was all so familiar, reminding him of the day he had gotten shot when he was sixteen.   
Not long before he had met Philza, when that gem of a man had saved his life, brought them both something they never would have expected...

Family.

It was so cold, it felt like someone had punched him really hard, and he was screaming so bad his throat was scratched raw, while Techno had just cried and held him, screaming bloody murder.

The more he thought about it, reminiscing on the past, the more he slowly began to come back to reality, the ache spiking in his hands, turning his attention to the reopened wound and seething in pain, shrinking back, relaxing at the gentle touch of his Brothers hand at the back of his head, getting the hint to shut up, and instead waiting.  
The door to the house opened, hearing the windchimes cling together, Eret speaking but not close enough to make out what they were saying.

“It’s fine, he’s probably around this corner. Purpled won’t hide, he’s too scared to hide,” Dream’s voice stilled Wilbur’s terrified thoughts, replacing it with burning rage.

He took everything from him.

Techno tightened his arms around him, holding him so close he could feel him holding his breath, realising that his twin was right. They couldn’t do anything right now.  
They had to stay quiet and they had to wait until the perfect time and then they could strike and kill that sick green fuck—

“Hiya mate, who’s this?”

Both the boys perked up at the soft voice of their father, sharing a worried look.

They could just about see Philza making his way over, a soft yet fake smile forced onto his lips as he made his way over to the three men, tipping his hat.

“You’ve taken in another person.” It was a statement.

“He’s helpful,” Quackity pointed out.

A loud sigh.

“Alright old man, where’s Purpled? Young boy, purple eyes, odd looking?”

“He left.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might update every two days just because I am starting to get a bit overwhelmed by a lot! Aha, sorry guys!  
> Also I’m sorry if this isn’t going the way you wanted to, I had to delete a few mean comments from people... I write for me!  
> I enjoy writing and I won’t let people get me down just because it’s not the way they wanted it to be. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the support I’ve been receiving, I am so moved by it all, it makes me so emotional! Thank you <3


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